Winter's Courtship by P.H. Oliver

Winter's Courtship

Pressed against my bolted window

Distempered locks howl around his craggy face

Brittle fingers nag the frame

Bid me join the Dervish dance of

His white veiled brides

Who . . .  for the moment

Lie like sculptures

Then rise on his command to 

Writhe in wind-twisted spirals and fall

Exhausted

Into some beguiling pose

Applauding trees provoke many boastful encores

But fail to stir me to his breast

For here within 

The fire licks in long-fingered leisure

Curling into lap-warmed spaces

Excavating the smooth curves

Coveted by Nature's dangerous son

Stains of disappointment bleed into that blanched face

As he gasps, bewildered at his wounds

His love letters etched in a lacey, lonely hand

Abandoned on my bolted window

Left unread.