Sibyl

by
 
Revised poem Copyright © 2013 by Mike Smetzer 
 
***************
 
Look down from your mountain air.
Come home again
on eastward blowing winds.
 
Winter’s high thin cold
has only paled your skin,
not flushed your blood as I would.
 
Sibyl, you could be a swan and I
a hot spring in winter’s air,
my mouth around your thighs,
 
my love, a steam against the cold.

(first published in The Innisfree Poetry Journal)

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