The slow wet
tongue of winter
licks the land
and all the creatures
that are subject
to her chill moist presence,
as she slides in the crevices
that cannot resist her
slow yearning kiss
and probing tongue.
And her friend, the wind,
also licks across each naked part
and moves with her flailing arms
frantically among the trees
and the skipping leaves,
stirring and whipping
and flinging her passion
with the madness
of a lover scorned.
The winter and wind
work together as lovers possessed,
dancing naked with each other
and holding hands
long into the night.
23/5/2017