A Winter’s Alcove - Armando Garcia-Dávila

[Larry Robinson]

A Winter’s Alcove 
 
There are sorrowful, chilled fogs these days that remind one of his mortality. We are in that season when the sun loses the eternal tug-of-war with the icy moon, as exhausted leaves fall like wounded soldiers from desperate trees. 
 
It is the time when the earth falls into her hibernation to conceive the unhappy dreams of lost loves, a time when we are reminded of whom we have offended and forgotten and left behind. It is the time of cold rains and hungry animals.
 
Let me kiss you, turn your collar up to the gray cold, take your hand, and strut the joyous walk of love defying the face of the storm. I will make fire and create a dry alcove for you in this river of iced waters, put my arms around your sadness and for one brief and exotic moment take you to where we will lay naked on warm blessed sands, bask in the sun, and laugh at our melancholy.
 
Let us heap our fears in the cold night where they will feel at home, polish our joys, and wear them around our necks.
 
	- Armando Garcia-Dávila
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