Sullen skies asleep -it waits-
for subtle whispers to extol it thus.
Two breaths of life slowly exchanged,
a lover's epistle unmasked.
Winter shall contrive an intricate orb
from a sentient being, replete with drive.
Two steps reclaimed in a mortal dance
one for my spirit, two for your soul.
November calls in an amorous tone,
imparting our union with an ethereal sigh.
Submitted for Colm's 7-day challenge: Special events theme
