Last Night in December

I wrapped her in our shared sleeping bag
on the overlook where lovers come,
to have her to myself
away from the parties and revelry.
“Do you have to g–”
But she stops.
Chilled words stilled
like the grass laying down,
waiting for snow.
Below, the city sparks
crackling the night
popping occasional fireworks –
pretending a glow
like campfire embers
subsiding to sleep.
Yet past the sparkling city,
the horizon swallows
light in distant shadows.
A single star rises
as it crawls up the night
through a sliver of clear sky
on the horizon’s edge
to disappear behind a ceiling of clouds.
“Will I ever see y—”
Her frosted breath
suspended in air
dissolves as a breeze rises
melting the mist of her words.
The wind grasps her black hair
wraps it across her face
‘til she’s absorbed
into the starless night.
I reach out and push each strand back
lock by lock to see her eyes
one more time.
The first flakes fall
through dark like ashes.
“You know I’ll always love –”
But I hush her lips
with one more kiss.
I only want to feel her heart
pumping though our interlaced fingers,
her bare feet
brushing against mine.

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About Mark Stabler

I've been (and still am in some respect) a Writer, Poet, Archer, Musician, Copywriter, Marketer. But mainly I'm a thinker — too much probably.
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