5 Minute Poem/Changing Of The Seasons

Changing Of The Seasons

We make lanterns from old tin cans,
guess the songs in each other’s heads,
while eating salted pumpkin seeds
and swallowing mug after mug
of sweetened, milky tea.

It’s cold here, above the tree line,
and snow is falling in the mountains.

It will be here soon, before the sun for sure,
and the time to discuss the science of kissing
will be over. Everything will be about staying
warm, keeping blood flowing to our fingertips
and breaking thick silences with laughter.

For now, I think about how if I were able
to reach up and touch the sky, it would feel
like the black velvet dress you wore that night
we first held hands over a spluttering
candle flame in an empty restaurant.