Monday, December 19, 2016

9:49 on a december morning

some days reflect white on white
white to brick-red briskness bites
clarity lingers upon the landscape of loss opalescent & pearled
wind is still
snow shrinks to whisper pools of winter
softly it is childhood : folded in & dripping joy through holes pierced by an ache so large it fills the sky with blue blue rolled up & spilling upon land frozen & waiting ,,,,
crispness becomes home becomes bone
a wren comes and sits upon this folded day
blue-blue rolled up & spilling ...

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