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Click hereFrigid,
was the day
he left me
to explore mountains
of affluence.
A kiss, from
wind chaffed lips,
froze me in time.
His cloak caught
in a brutal gust.
Only once
did he glance
over shoulder
to reassure his return.
Between us
his despairing eyes
wrote a song of the blues.
His akward smile
reflected a glint
of optimism.
Would he cross
my threshold again?
Left was a hint
of his strong aroma
to tickle my nostrils.
Out the window
the snowflakes held
the comfort I longed for.
Until then,
I resigned my heart.
© 2006 MLB.
This poem was selected from Lit's archive of over 39,500 poems for inclusion in today's Archival Review.<br>
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