Paintings on the Ice

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I stand here, Its just time I ponder.

My breath freezes as I exhale into the cold December winds

Giddy with anticipation no fears, I worry about no sin’s.

As I wait.



I stand alone, and its just moments I remember.

I step out slowly, unsure, tentative, the snowflakes flutter down on to my eye lashes.

I blink them away, I stair at the woman wearing sashes.

Odd I think.



I stand there, between the further and the past, and I’m making both.

Interesting. The snow flutters on to my mittens like feathers exploding from a pillow.

Gently they tumble to my level, and as my hair hits my face blown from the wind like a willow.

As I wait.



I stand near, near the edge of falling into the wake of an adventure.

My checks flushed, chilly as they are prickle.

As I adjust my fluffy plush ear muffs, I spot a nickel.

Odd I think.



I stand unsure, and then I see you.

You come and take my gloved hand, the dusky mid day sun at your back, its like you shine.

My feet shaky but I’m steadied by you, bundled up in that parka, I like that your mine.

As I wait.



You and I stand, hand and hand, at water side’s bank.

A smile you flash me, I look outward, the colors of the sunset, paint the glistening ice.

I chuckle, its all pretty nice.

As I wait, odd I think, now with you I’m ready to skate.
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