Iced…

Tea or coffee,

Toes in winter,

Sculptures at events,

Snowmen built in winter,

A time it seems to lament…

Long winter days do approach,

Times for thoughtful recompense,

To pay oneself back for past expense,

Sometimes I seem to be nothing if not dense…

Each day a little shorter,

We do sometimes build internal walls made of mortar,

The write for me does bring down these walls,

My desire for love and affection does wane with time,

No matter how many I do receive of calls,

My mind seems to release me from its private stalls…

        © ed ~ 10/20/04