Two cups of coffee and a wolf gray dusk, <br />Distance becomes the hunter of itself. <br />You speak to me in accents of a frost <br />Elusive as a moon thread on the air. <br /> <br />Warmth plays like music inside human bones. <br />Eyes interlock to hold the poem still. <br />Winter, I think, cannot be far away. <br />It whistles like an old friend at the pane. <br /> <br />Read to CD by The Poet House, Copyright,2006 Sandra Fowler<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-warmth-like-music/
