It felt wrong, always,
to be thought unaware
by the cold of Winter. I
built some warmth among
mysteries in song and sights
flaked in the night. They held
me wrapped in blankets, unsnowed.

It felt right, always
willing the warming, Spring
grows from scenes wintered
through to some between,
kissed by lightning mien,
just the other side, awaiting.

Experience like energy, one
in course of time, another, hope
of Summer deepening. A heart
holds warmth for sun's light
above all wintering, life.

‎(hu now do you come
a bit tenderly sad yet
moving joy, your secret
slipping away from how
you wanted an easy
falling in, while all beyond
lay sheltered with another
unafraid of raising up)

And lets it Fall where wills
have felt its warm response
reached back through seasoned
expectation. A winded leaf
undelivered, to the ground.