Saturday, April 26, 2014


© Steve King
All rights reserved

As I look out on winter, I recall
the night we took that long and rutted road
away from a familiar highway
to peer beyond a veil of swirling snow
on the expanse of vast Ontario.

We paused along the hard and bitter shore
imagining some far horizon there.
An easy reach, or so it seemed to me,
enfolding our discrete eternity.

We strode on currents hidden through the ice
and glossed the secrets of that unknown depth;
two unlikely figures setting forth,
to mark a presence with each random step.

There came no warming aftermaths to this,
nor frozen moments halting our design:
one interlude supplanted by a next,
enough to match the reasons of the time.

The way it was in winter, one day when...
And now is winter so much part of me
that I can just recall that early glow.
The fires are banking now; and even so,
I still can say that it was well enough,
when once we lingered far from strut and show,
to dance with our desires in the snow.

A new poem for d'Verse OLN