Or argue, though I did, I didn't care;
It's possible that I might say the air
Was bright inside the darkness, or unfold
A legend of how stars of burnished gold
Floated before me. I, perhaps, may dare
To claim that there was music everywhere
And dancing in the streets; I am that bold.
But none of it is true. The wind still freezes
The forecast, though it does not call for rain,
Prepares me for a drop in temperature.
The combination of the chill and breezes
Is harsh indeed. But I can bear the pain
Because I know at last that I'm with her.
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