Midday in December, Lovers Strolling.

Sunshine in December, ultra bright, ice bright,
A shimmering, an arctic light, searing through the
                     frosty air
Incandescent, scarring the naked eye, scorching
With a cold flame, a direct flame honed to cut
Fiercely through the heart of the day, this drear
                     December noon day
With imagined heat; a burnished glimmer,
                      a false beauty,
A sharp, iridescent strangeness forged to inscribe
A fantasy of summer, a fallacy of hope, deep
Deep into that frozen heart, the core of this day
Like a picture scored into ice, or graffiti scratched,
Etched by a diamond, deep, deep into a polished mirror.

Sunshine in December, incandescent, ice bright;
And we two walking, arm clasped in arm, close
Knit like frightened children, eyes smarting; heads,
Shoulders, pressed together, hunched tight against
The sear wind, the fierce light, the raw edge of winter;
Hunched tight, heads close, arm clasped in arm, we talk,
Talk of our unborn child, our proudest hope, our terror,
                       our future curled
Deep, deep inside the snug, the warm soft home
                       of your body;
Trusting, waiting, curled safe and sound, a true beauty.
Untroubled innocence,               a harbinger of Spring.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
18th. December 2003 - 22nd. July 2012.