A shiver running down my back reminds
My simple senses of the time when we
Went walking, for a common feeling binds
Those moments to each other. I could see
Your eyes above your scarf, below your hat,
Squeezed in position to deny the cold,
And seeing them, desired no more than that,
And could have stood forever but to hold
Your gaze with mine. And yet I turned away
For fear of doing what I might regret
And felt the shiver that I feel today
Only because I'm chatteringly wet.
So do the senses jog rememberance
Of what repression robbed of consequence.
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