cyanide sunrise
clouds with all edges
lavender blooms from behind strips of pink
syrupy amber light hangs above bowed branches
the air tastes like maple kisses
fox-breath & moon-skin
the smell of witch hazel
mingles with hickory smoke
we sit around a space heater
until we can feel our fingers again
YOU ARE READING
winter crawls inside & falls asleep
Поэзия"it is too cold / the vultures do not come." A collection of winter poetry for anyone who loves watching the world change with the seasons and for those who are terrified by it.
