twenty-eight years ago <br />breathing air at sixteen below <br />no shirt, wanting it that way <br />to really taste it <br />and behind me the house <br />fire warm with scented wood <br />where my love waited. <br />Joy in Vermont that night <br />and it never returned <br />quite like that again.<br /><br />Charles Chaim Wax<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/joy-in-vermont-that-night/
