For Eager Lovers (Taggard collection)/Frost in the Air

by Genevieve Taggard

FROST IN THE AIR

  Winter put his shoulder
    To our door,
  Nights are turning colder
    More and more;
  We are old—or older
    Than before.

Poppied sleep and honeyed breath
Are an antidote for death.

  If your fingers tingle
    Hold them here:
  Doom has drawn a single
    Circle clear;
  Lean to me and mingle
    Fear with fear. . . .

Poppied sleep and honeyed breath
Are an antidote for death.