it seems like yesterday;
cold strong winds
that whip around the block
and
freeze the bones from the meat
leaving me crawling for
the heat only a younger body can create.
winter.
the time of our birth.
the exterior retreats inside.
and rests a while, to draw on
the vast strength of spring and summer and
at this point i am born.
i breath.
i take first steps.
remember:
huddled before the oil heater,
birthday gifts and elations
while others complain of the weather
that truns us on and off.
a museum;
winter has its own attractions.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
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