
Snowbound, locked inside
City is frozen
The scrape of shovels
Flurries keep falling outside
Inside, I’m warm with a book
Snowbound, locked inside
City is frozen
The scrape of shovels
Flurries keep falling outside
Inside, I’m warm with a book
what have i become?
this place feels familiar –
sights, sounds, sensations
like softness of blankets,
wrapped in cocoons in
woodland winters
lying on snow-ground
ice crusted on my nose –
(more…)the silence of winter is not
such a terrible thing –
graying snowbanks by roadsides
reduced to slush & a thick sky
cold & like the finest cotton,
naked trees, dying leaves
hanging for dear life
reminding me of sledding down
icy hills, red plastic breaking
leaving shards to be buried below
like black bears snuggled in
warm caves
(Photo by Fabrice Villard on Unsplash)