Winter's sunlight,
warm and still,
lept upon my windowsill,
danced about
and quickly fled,
on to loftier heights instead.

Tree tops,
birdwings,
mountain cold,
skiers downhill,
daring, bold.

Puff of clouds
all tinged with gold,
dreams unwhispered,
thoughts untold.

January 1988 © djhart

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