Not stomping 'I love you' in the snow

 

Goose-stepping would be more in line --

burn a whole field of snow,

 

send slushy sparks into gray sky.

Something fierce to clear my heart.

 

At least made me see stomping snow

never takes hold -- words melt by dawn.

 

Most writers know love moves on,

watch their feet as they dance,

 

drool on what they write,

plough through drifts of words,

 

listless, vague, though in a row.

Anyway, she always hated snow,

 

thought romance the best fiction,

was quick to pack and go.

                               Timothy Pilgrim