We can walk in the snow above tree line, where nothing warm-blooded grows.
In doesn’t matter if the sky stays gray all day, there is enough blue heat and non-verbal reasons in our eyes to brighten cold seasons.
We’ll flash smiles like TV in a sushi bar until the tears cling to our lashes, and our mouths sting like wintergreen kisses or wasabi.
We’ll watch the stars fly like trout in an Idaho stream with our hunger for time like a bear in the belly of our bond to each other.
I’ll bring my wild dreams like a swift boat to your dark river, and we’ll shop our grocery of hopes in a shiver.
You’ll bring your bold questions like stones to sound my deep waters, and we’ll wear happiness like a fleece.
We can walk in the snow above tree line, where winter solstice really goes.
It doesn’t matter if the wind bites at our backs and glares at our heels, there is something ever-green about how this love feels.
In doesn’t matter if the sky stays gray all day, there is enough blue heat and non-verbal reasons in our eyes to brighten cold seasons.
We’ll flash smiles like TV in a sushi bar until the tears cling to our lashes, and our mouths sting like wintergreen kisses or wasabi.
We’ll watch the stars fly like trout in an Idaho stream with our hunger for time like a bear in the belly of our bond to each other.
I’ll bring my wild dreams like a swift boat to your dark river, and we’ll shop our grocery of hopes in a shiver.
You’ll bring your bold questions like stones to sound my deep waters, and we’ll wear happiness like a fleece.
We can walk in the snow above tree line, where winter solstice really goes.
It doesn’t matter if the wind bites at our backs and glares at our heels, there is something ever-green about how this love feels.
 |
| Above tree line on Mt. Rainier. |
.jpg)
.jpg)