Winter Beat
Cam-Asher Bond
Let us be chilled by the beating of winter,
And our fingertips grow numb to the touch,
Let us breathe smoke and speak the tongues of love,
And let the drop of rare whiskey warm us now,
Our hearts aflame with some whispered shout,
Let the wind pick fresh snow from the mountaintop,
To be sprinkled over lilac skies at the day’s end,
Let us now, wrapped together in wool.
Fell the fire on our faces,
In the valley below, torn by the frost laden brook,
Let the stars dance and the vexing wolves bay,
through the towering pines all dressed in white,
Swaying, howling, like apparitions in the night,
Let us, our love exhausted, content with traded souls,
Droop with weary bodies, to fall asleep, and,
Let us be chilled by the beating of winter