Nobody Likes Cold Feet
nobody likes a lover
with cold feet
i mean frozen toes
beneath the covers
or frigid digits
escaped from snow boots
pressed against
your naked thigh
but one body lives
to warm another
fetch a pair of fuzzy socks
or share a fire place
embracing the challenge
of turning cold into comfortable
estranged into ecstatic
we might be afraid
to face the flames
the prick of feeling again
like a hundred pins
or of making our lover
feel our icy skin
but a fiery future awaits
and our hearts will thank us
when the warmth of love
wraps us both up again
like a bulky blanket
like a nice hot bath
drawn by one sensitive
partner or another
Greg Walker is a poet turned musician turned poet (who still writes music, from time to time). He fell in love with poetry in high school when he mentored with Baltimore poet Rosemary Klein. He was introduced to the greats, like Milton and Donne and Whitman and Shakespeare, in college at St. Mary’s College of Maryland. Discovered more contemporaries, like Carl Sandburg and Mary Oliver and Billy Collins, on his own. And has been trapped in (and released by) the snarl of words ever since.
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