Two magnets, heaven and earth, allure to bliss. -- John Dryden

Smoke from the fireplace twists down from the stack
heavy air out of the east pushes it under the porch roof
where it smells of apples and cinnamon and whiskey
the flavored oils of our bodies and their taking
ice hard in the cavities of the derelict woods
the long dark coming in the magnesium shifts of twilight.

This late in the cycle our urges in combination
uncommon we think in the season of dormancy
snow come and deep and gone again
ferns flattened on the sepia leafmat
green novas with coils hidden at their cores
hard for the first warm licks of Beltane
our separate fires in the shorter wavelengths
our fused paths our dazzling actinic light
our flint and steel in the tinder of intellect
our ropes and masks against the abysses within us.

-- Jeff O'Brien