Poetry of a Conlanger

Friday, March 10, 2006

Heat Ripples (3/7/06)

Heat ripples linger in the doorway,
Invisible but present,
Infusing the air with warm colors:
Scarlet and pomegranate-melon and gold,
Exploding a fusion of cinnamon and passion
Into the young lives standing there.

It’s warm here, inside with you.
Outside is cold and lonely,
And I hate walking away from you.
I don’t want either of us to leave,
Not now, not ever.

Holding hands until the last second,
Delaying a goodbye kiss as long as we can,
We will linger here in this doorway,
Here with the ever-ephemeral heat ripples.


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