between desire's fire, and the rush of cold snow melting

for rick~

to meet, conmingle, ask for another
view--- apart from
buried fear-- making myself
clear: to both you and me

and yet still operating as if
we would grow old
together---no matter what 
the weather

to be able to distinguish
between fantasy, and what is 
staring at me
through translucent
iced-over windows...

warmed by a shared breath,
long afternoon dalliances--
not far from feeling:

we are good, we are solid, we are free
we are good, we are solid, we are free

and in our freedom, we keep
choosing each other

walking on an ordinary path made sacred
by conjoined mittens, a common view
of an over turned pine tree -

 a shared landmark of hope and healing
a ship of common ground,
 washed in softening snow

impossible to really know
 what is in store- more coffee, 
slippers, early dinners on sunday--
 to the tune,
'brother can you spare a dime'

 poems that used to 
not rhyme, are lurching
in a sunless sky---why argue

with the common breath,
the urge to meld...why argue
with the stuff that dreams
may be composed of

blood sweat and tears fading
 on the radio, carole king's
'you make me feel like a natural woman'


no no no no---
i've always felt
 that way without you,

it's just that you accentuate all that--
all that which is good and sacred and sublime
every time, every single  blessed time!!!!! 

~kate lamberg (c) '18