My friend, I met you on an iron gray day. <br />Winter like smoke blew our landscape away. <br />Quick as a yellow finch, time seemed to be <br />Too fragile for its own capacity. <br /> <br />A warm word fitly spoken against air, <br />Made the momentum of it seem less bare. <br />Still we were left to wonder in the frost. <br />Like poems when their power to rhyme is lost. <br /> <br />Previously Published: The World Poet's Quarterly.China<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-iron-gray-day/
