Ant Smith

All poems

Winter poem

Sometimes the sun will warm you up
With a momentary brush
But winter is more intimate
In the places it will touch

Oh joy! Oh warmth! Oh happiness!
Rebounding off my skin
See me shining like an angel
Leaving darkness deep within

You can peel prints from fingertips
And kisses from remains of lips
But it's grubs and mites and parasites
That get beneath my cold dead skin

I've never felt a moments warmth
Nor held some inner glow
I've never felt so more at home
Than walking through the snow

Sometimes the sun will warm you up
Precious moments set ablaze
But the temperature is falling
As I reach my end of days