I could blame the incoming sun, holding you.
I do remember the moon was brightsmall of clouds circling it
forming their path from the horizon.
The bedroom curtains start to spin against the wind,ushering in this winter solstice –
we close the windows quicklythe wood floors go cold soon enough
tip toeing, we make our way upstairs,where it’s always warmer
and we stare out into the bright night.
braving the winds(we want to be part of this night),
we dress and head for dinner.
toward morning I can see you glow