Small Poem Involving An Impulse, Cold Hands, And A Book

Small Poem Involving An Impulse, Cold Hands, And A Book

Your hands look cold
As you gesture emphatically in the early morning
December sun
One hand appears frozen over the cover of your book
The other illustrates the details
Of the story you are telling.

I wonder what would happen
If I were to follow through on my immediate impulse to take your hands in mine
To cut short your story and warm your small pale fingers between my palms
What would you say?

I do not know, so I stand and do nothing
But think that your hands look cold
As your eyes glitter in the early morning
December sun.