I have moist thoughts of you; <br />the weather changes when I <br />think of you <br /> <br />because your grace and touch and memory <br />prevails, <br />prevails in the darkest winters of New York <br />when buds shrivel <br />and the fawns incubate <br />while the fallen leaves receive the snow <br />into open, thirsty jaws <br />which nature itself invites to feast <br />and then decay. <br /> <br />You bring the sun, <br />you bring the seasons, <br />you bring the motions before the evolution of year, <br />and to you, they are instantaneous.<br /><br />Michael Timothy Rose<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/winter-in-new-york/
