Winter In New York Poem by Michael Timothy Rose

I have moist thoughts of you;
the weather changes when I
think of you

because your grace and touch and memory
prevails,
prevails in the darkest winters of New York
when buds shrivel
and the fawns incubate
while the fallen leaves receive the snow
into open, thirsty jaws
which nature itself invites to feast
and then decay.

You bring the sun,
you bring the seasons,
you bring the motions before the evolution of year,
and to you, they are instantaneous.