WINTER

WINTER CAME CURLING.

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1. WINTER

 

Winter came curling from her lips,

like fog on a bathroom mirror.

Coldness turned the tips of her eyelashes into heavy snow;

they dripped shut

and froze together into icicles.

...

Were it not for the hope of Spring,

she may have been content to lay back,

embraced in the arms of a snow angel,

and hibernate.

...

But sleep cannot come easy

when one will not stop thinking.

She struggled to move—

to break the ice from her limbs.

To etch out her thoughts

on paper made from tree bark.

...

Winter came curling from her lips,

like fog, settling over the dewy grass.

Tepid water sluiced from her fingertips,

defrosting her icy interior

into something pliable and human.

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