I've Been Thinking about Love Again

Those who live to have it and

those who live to give it.

Of course there are those for whom both are true,

but never in the same measure.

Those who have it to give are

like cardinals in the snow. So easy

and beautifully lit. Some

are rabbits. Hard to see

except for those who would prey upon them:

all that softness and quaking and blood.

Those who want it

cannot be satisfied. Eagle-eyed and such talons,

any furred thing will do. So easy

to rip out a heart when it is throbbing so hard.

I wander out into the winter.

I know what I am.