Snow First Touched

February 6, 2014

~

Longing has ended.

He places my hand in his hand.

Natural it feels to have his skin touch my skin

like placing a fork on a napkin on the left side of the plate out of habit,

like the movement of my wrist when turning a key to unlock a door,

as when kissing a child’s forehead,

as when drawn to sing a favorite song playing on my car’s radio.

~

This touch too, brings a wakefulness

as when snow first touched my face

when I was small

and the yard that bore the weight of my young feet and witnessed my play seemed the universe.

~