Here in the Cold

Putting out my hand

waiting

waiting for you to grab hold.

Maybe I’m just a fool

standing

standing here in the cold.

Ambient city lights

block out the dark night.

Looking upward, my eyes

catch a raindrop

that spills into a tear

and streaks down my cheek

and tumbles to the sidewalk

where I see my well worn shoes

that have paced these streets

looking for you

and a chance,

a fleeting chance

to grab hold of your hand

and pull you close

and gaze into your eyes

and read past your past

and suddenly kiss

your kissable lips.

Pulling you close

to escape the cold winds

that blow off the river

and down the cobblestone streets

and swirl around us.

The taxi cabs

and their squealing brakes

echo against

the tightly packed brownstones

that sit upon the hill.

I open my eyes again

and again I am alone.

Putting out my hand

waiting

waiting for you to grab hold.

Maybe I’m just a fool

standing

standing here in the cold.