Kissing winter

The kiss burns hotter in the cold 

It thaws the dark ramifications of the frost

It blooms a pink carnation on the snow 

So bring it on - I am afraid no more

Autum Lift

 

Gold to rust and rush to still,
the fall air clings to morning’s chill.
Something grew and rises too—
toward the blue,
the sky, or bird—I am not sure.
But it lifts the heart into the cloud,
and returns—
live, and loved back.