Grey Catbird

The wind turns our first snow
with a cold north eastern air
blowing my jeans stiff.
I made it to your backdoor-
but there was nothing left.
Sadder now than the dark winter sky
I turned for home.
Frozen onto my cheeks-
a grey catbird watched
and mocked.
As I wept.

So sings the young heart
that grew up watching lovely titties grow under a knitted sweater-
and how the face of a girl becomes red from the bitter cold-
and then I thought,
how the only cure must be to hold each other naked under thick blankets.
while our bodies lightly touch,
we waited on time determined by her pastor.
Until spring.
She gave me her warmth as a woman and took me in.

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