The Warmth of Her Light

I met her on the first weekend of a new year, In a town near mine somewhere in New England. Everything was ice on that cold January night. So I couldn’t see what was in store, the warmth, the light. She was so close for all those years. I met her at my friend's girlfriend's house-party. I didn’t know a soul, and my friend was… occupied. When she saw I was alone, she put out her hand. It was her first time drinking, she could barely stand. Her innocence was hushed by her confidence. I met her along with four other improbable prospects, All of them friends of my friend's girlfriend, But her name was the only one I could remember. With a look she took me back to December, November, October! Just before the first snow... we chilled. I met her, and fell in love for the first time. Her eyes drew me in, her smile sealed the deal. She made me feel… real! Her hair was the color of autumn leaves. Not the bright yellow ones, Not the fiery red ones, Not the decaying brown ones, But all of them mixed together, The earthy orange that fills the hills of my back yard. She made me feel at home. Her beauty shined like polished chrome. We rested together on a make-shift bamboo couch. It was uncomfortable, but I felt so comfortable. The warmth of her body, a soft simple touch, We held hands, our fingers interlacing meant so much. Now I truly do believe in love at first sight. I met her not that long ago, yet it seems like forever. Always I'll remember her, and that winter rendezvous. She leads me on, but I'll follow her lead. If all we had was just a moment, that's all I need. Undoubtedly I’m blinded by the warmth of her light.