I still recall that December night,
down by the pier: your body pressed;
a weight against my boyish chest.
Harbor waves were pounding granite piers
your leg a nestling
seeking warmth between my legs.
We must have talked, but memory has vaned;
it’s just your laughter in the face of wind
that comes to mind; as today
we huddle silently apart,
our backs against the freezing breeze.
Tomorrow wind will rip, again,
It will fill our voids with snow
freeze the gap between these hands
that ceased to touch.
This is written in response to Margret’s prompt on toads on passed prompts, and I have combined two, Kerry’s on Ingrid Jonker, and my own on using past, present and future tenses in the same poem. I will also link the poem to Poetry Pantry tomorrow.