flash poem: winter (1)

A little journaling exercise: write a poem. Now.

crystalsblog1

fragile

every breath like a needle-shard of crystal

some days

 

on other days

i turn upwards to the falling snow and let the chill wash over my face like a baptism

i am renewed

in a lonely sort of way

 

there is strength in numbers, the grey hairs tell me

as i watch them gather together in a growing mass

soon they will be a great force

maybe then, i will feel like one, too

perhaps not even in a lonely sort of way

 

in the meantime

they live under my hat

philosophizing and generally doing nothing of use

 

unlike the cleansing kiss of the snow, which gives me a useful red glow

swirling dream-like vision

and a cold I feel deep in my bones

the kind that aches

and lets me know that i am alive

fragile

but alive

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