On this late autumn's night
at the edge of winter,
at the edge of a gray dawn,
in the last starless hours
before a sunless day,
I warm myself with the fire
she kindles with her gifts,
my muse, worthy of the Graces,
bringing Caribbean moonlight
to shine above her bonfire,
mixing her gifts
with poetry,
drinking the resulting
spiced, intoxicating
hot wine.
14.11.2025
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