Sunday, January 4, 2009


The wind bellowed like an old drunken sailor after too many shots of courage, poured frosty starlight on an unsuspecting neighborhood of sleepers. Night danced to its own tune, the musician partnered with the moon, Venus, Pluto and the likes of winter. The combination was intoxicating.  Nature's lover cannot compete with a bed crafted of delicate featherweights whose dance became a heavy concentrated moisture between one another. Winter wears her heart on her sleeve and I watch, ever the fascinated scribe.   

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