Cold Outside

Baby, it's cold outside
even the snow angels
have folded their wings around themselves
in defense against the winter winds;
footprints left in warmer weather
have been preserved in ice,
their heels toward me
on a path aimed at the horizon

I watched your back
as you disappeared into the crowd,
your image growing ever smaller
imprinted on my mind,
mingled with the scent of breakfast
in a lazy cafe,
and I sat alone
facing where you had gone
and wondered if eggs and bacon
would ever be the same again

I close my eyes and press myself
into the imprint of your angel in the snow 
and let it wrap its wings
around me
as snowflakes kiss my face
and the memory of your touch 
warms me this cold day
while I hum along
to that old winter song –

Oh, Baby it's cold outside …

but spring is on its way.






november 2010 
 



 
Awarded by Poetic Constellations ~ owlcry (Sarah)