branches like glass
lift their arms to the light.
the sun comes on tiptoe
over the icy threshold.
tongues of frost
are licking the windowpane

you and i,
our union
is as perfect as the earth.
together we have created a thousand miles
of hills and valleys, rivers and plains
which now keep us apart.

but when summer comes,
i will turn my face toward you
like a dew-drenched rose
at sunset on a clearing day
and let the tears dry

in the meantime, i am sending you
this winter poem
if you don't understand the meaning,
it doesn't matter--
you can use your fingers
to touch the screen gently
like a doctor feeling for his patient's pulse.
perhaps you can tell
that they throb
to the rhythm of your heart

you and i,
we are two branches like glass
and from the distance that lies between us
we can measure
how hard the wind blows,
how high the tide rises,
how cold are the ice and snow
how deep is the longing for love