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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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