w i n t e r b l a n k e t

Thank you for the communion of birds, streets becoming streams,
and glitter and stardust underfoot. Thank you for the swollen river,
licking the trunks of trees...everything with its perfect, white shadow.
Yesterday, i sat in bed at the window, watching birds beak-lift leaves.
i took a trek out back and listened to everything. I felt the snow and licked my fingers. I saw your fingerprint frozen in the river. (That means you are coming back). I saw your burlap bag - the one you house your treasures in - having an argument with two birch trees. A twig was holding your pink scarf captive. Writhing in the wind, threadbare and torn, it finally surrendered.
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