bring me cold.
bring me my shovel
and scrapper to
dig and scrape the snow
and ice.
i wrap my arms around
the gale
force wind. the flickering
lights.
the bleak night.
give me matches to light
the candles,
more wood for the fire.
i like this season
of darkness.
of grey limbs, of leafless
trees
of
hovering around
a fire rubbing my
gloveless hands together,
i like being deep into
this season
after the gaiety has ended.
being hungry.
being alone.
being loveless and new born.
it's all a delight.
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