That impossible love

Ode to a Lover’s Union




On bitter summer

or winter

or spring

or perhaps fall

mornings, faces of those

who see the dim sky

wrinkle their smiles

to a frown.



Children grumble

of cabin fever.

Parents moan of

boredom and fury.

Nature weeps from

loneliness.

Nobody ever wants to stand

in the rain.



Yet, you stand

face to face

under a clouded

dawn, ignore the

bite of frosty

air and embrace

through the literal

storm, and forget

the sky is weathered

gray.





(c)Kimberlee LaClair