Summer Sun

When January subsides, still resides
within the confines of recent memory
I am twisted and torn between
its solace and the warmth of the summer sun.

She persists, exists, to rue me
Undo me with her witting charms
But winter winds interfere,
catching a stray hair - pulling it out of place

She tucks it safely behind her ear,
Lost again but she continues with the fickle game.
The invite of her smile
reminds me of the summer sun.

She pulls her hair into place again
And it settles for a moment
-But I remain restless and unsure,
Ready for the Summer Sun.