Sunday, January 31, 2021

come spring

a blue cold 
settles hard into your skin.
it's the winter
season.
a time of endings.
more days of this until
change.
white ice.
a starlit night, scattered
like broken
bits of glass through
the arms of trees.
you've been here before.
everything before you is
what you've already
seen.
but as always,
you'll get to the other
side.
you'll be alive once more
come spring.

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