What Am I in Winter?
- Erin Conway
- Feb 6, 2022
- 1 min read
What am I in winter?
Folded twisted taped and bare, almost.
Few, a few, sparse leaves
Mark a promise.
Oak trees asleep, growing.
What am I in winter?
Smooth, melted sweet and shaped, almost.
Reformed halves into a fragile whole
Choose an explosion.
Cocoa flavors hidden, waiting.
What am I in winter?
An organizer of silly, unimportant thoughts,
Joy seeker.
Energy keeper.
Intersections of investment and invention
What am I in winter?
Defined steps snow crusted and ice clad.
Each a mere outline of itself
on the edge of erasure.
Movement forward counted in cold and dark.
I wish I had more warmth.
I wish I had more light.
I wish I had more to say.
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