Winter Storm

I'll come to you,
before the cool evening breeze
brushes your body
and you miss my arm
around your shoulder

I'll sit with you
for hours, holding your hand,
watching your eyes
as they empty
your dreams into mine.

I'll hide you
from the jealous moon,
waning away
as its light is cold
and your glow, amber.

And when you feel tired
and sleepy
I'll read you my poem;
about us being together
and getting older.

And I'll stay awake to
hold you, lest the winter storm
frighten you
and turn your heart cold;
as it turned mine,
a long time ago.