Friday, March 17, 2017

Winter and her Boyfriend

Winter and her boyfriend
death
locked in an icy tango,
their tight, slow spin
vanquished summer’s
red lust; hard, hard
drumming;
soft breath gone
to silver
topography.

We know it you and I,
sharing this bowl
of compressed
loss. 
We’ve been around.
We can tell a tiger 
from a lamb.

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