Sunday, September 16, 2018

before going home

i go north
for awhile. i need
the sting
of a cold wind
against my skin.
i want my shoes wet
with snow.
i want
ice in my hair. i want
to walk
the highway, between
the tall pines,
to find someplace
new to go.
i'll stop along
the way, but say nothing.
i'll sit
near a fire and drink
coffee. i'll warm
myself and get right,
before going home.

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