The air is wet
a patter of hail hits the window sill
and outside the night coughs cars
down the sidestreets, tires howling,
Our room fights to keep warm
a lone candle burns, but does so
brightly.
The dresser shivers in candle-light,
and under soft linen, we fall home
in one another's arms.
John W. McEwers
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hold-me-love-2/
