composing

it’s so cold
one lonely number
gives scientific expression
measurable definition
to the depth
which these scissors
of ice
of wind
are able to
cut
straight through
this tightly woven
fully lined
coat of
not-armor-enough

i long
for this too to pass
but when the layers are many
when the chair
pressed to windowsill
is deep and warm
when the fire
in my bones
thaws
my frozen heart
i can see winter
in all
its frigid wonder

the skeletons
dormant trees
also dreaming
the silver shards
water
clinging imprisoned
the grey canvas
skies suspended
on the brink
of a sob
the tension
pulled between death
and the maybe
of life

these are the pieces
fragile
doubting
beautiful
of my song

IMG_3712

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