She came to me on a quiet breeze…spoke softly to me in a whisper through the nearly bare trees. She found me there alone under a starless sky…found me praying to a place far up beyond a corner street light.
I was looking for a place where winter didn’t exist…seeking refuge from a storm I knew was going to find me without shelter…find me like this.
She came to me there on the wings of a December wind…came to me kindly in the voice of a friend. She fluttered down past the shrouded street lamp…and as I watched her descent, she softly kissed my cheek. Was it perhaps the first snowflake…the only one there, touching me again from somewhere in our past…
Or perhaps it was just a near frozen tear, born of our laughter, our distant embrace. Born of a kindness, a sigh, of loneliness, for a moment at least; erased.
Not sure why I roamed on a night in the teens, strolled there in a frozen and stark night. But all at once there was a shiver, not from cold, but from gladness…fed by a smile and a sigh. It was a familiar warmth that only one soul could bring…
And I will wait for that fond tear that a winter breeze brings, to fog my sight a little, and break in my voice a bit…and I will open my arms to the presence of her there in the wee hours of a winter night…and embrace her, if only…only in memory. And I’ll await another such moment, when again the night calls to me, and the north wind sings…
Matthew Lyle Landsman 
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