Winter

Friday, December 4, 2015


Winter is frozen curls of hair
attached to my head like
icicles dangling from a drippy building.

It is the forgotten feeling
of exposed skin and warm hands
without the help of wool or cotton.
 
Winter is trying to remember
June and the fleeting, glittering mirage
of sun that feels soft to the touch.
 
It is relearning how to walk
on frozen pavements and
how to smile with frozen lips.

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