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