I hear the classic verse of your rebuke. <br />The music of a constant, static bird <br />Crackles the gray indifference of the sky. <br />A winter bleach of sunlight stings the eyes. <br /> <br />You bring me coffee in a heavy cup. <br />Warmth is a burden that no mind can bear. <br />The pattern of your gesture on the grass <br />Gives anger a dimension out of time. <br /> <br />My eyes record the image of that sound. <br />Morning is hammered into words of gold. <br />The moments slip like lost time down my cheeks. <br />You tilt my face to catch the amber drops. <br /> <br />Such overwhelming brightness lifts my lids. <br />No shadow lives against such vividness. <br />You win the landscape with your poetry. <br />I trust you to tell no one of its warmth. <br /> <br />Previously published: Ellipsis Magazine, Westminster College, Utah<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/warmth-is-a-burden/
