 |
| Pause in a storm, January 22, 2012 |
two inches on the ground.
I call her Winter now, cold flame
down from the north, feisty and beautiful,
spinning her incantations
across these worn-down hills
to overstay her welcome once again,
her icy breath upon my neck.
When I open the back door,
she comes in with the animals,
but I don't mind, she's gorgeous as ever,
and I am sure of myself this time around,
for I think I have fuel enough,
I think this frame is strong enough,
I think that I am tough enough
this time around — illusions in a squall.
