you, me and winter

late afternoon walk
down familiar trodden paths
hand in hand in hand
you, me and winter.
how many cycles have we seen?
this year winter seems harsh-er
longer...
brittle limbs snapping loud under foot
the only sound for miles
save shrill cackles of a hungry crow.

frozen smiles in bundled warmth
white-gray plumes accompany our exhale
swirling skyward, melding into a gray pallet.
i'm feeling blessed and a preposterous urge
to run and fetch blankets
to cover shivering trees along our path.
trees we planted in our youth
now towering long past our shadows.

would that i could stay in the moment
breathing chilled air,
lacing gloved fingertips between yours.
but thoughts meander-
like pale questions plucked from nowhere...
how much longer before we feel our bones
snapping like those brittle limbs?
how many moments do i have left
to memorize the crook of your smile
or the way my skin still tingles against your touch?
in the corner of my eye
i see another plume exhaled from your lips
and i feel my heart begin to splinter
knowing each breath brings us closer
to the end of our season...


© Copyright claimed 2007, Debra Marlar