A visit to a cabin in the woods
is both exotic and terrifying
for this city born boy.
The wind and vacuum of silence
make my sinuses and brain quiver.
True, my Christmas-time cold may be to blame
but that detail is not essential
to the molten core of this poem.
I was once told never to use
the word quiver in a poem
but I stand by my word choice.
It makes my heart throb with joy.
Greg SantosBains Corner, New Brunswick
December 28, 2010