Outweighing the Chill
Hushed in a fugue
of Alpaca wool and rising resin
he sits on a stump
the relic legs of a mighty giant
hewn beneath the axeman's blade
its ageless corpse decays
sending up those honey notes
a whispering viola song
he stretches a bare arm from
the wool mist
reaches out, caresses a violet
newly woken from the mud
offers with a tender touch
some juxtaposed thanks
then plucks
lifts it up between two pages
shuts the book
violet pressed by poetry
he breathes a sigh
contended cloud billows
long and white
mingling with the soily musk
There's rose on his cheeks
love in his chest;
the warmth outweighs the chill
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