The soul climbs out…
its bare branch-bone grabs a cold
snowy ground,
elaborates: why grass has
one more chance to send stalk blades…
holograms
penetrating the sun skin
through the first snow -
thin ice excuse…
not knowing
how to cover our wounds, we
forever breathe/form
layers/foam of steam, snow banks
blocks boldly into our lives’
adjourned ajour …
Rather block myself with sun block, no need for snow piles lol or I'll just get a mask to hide behind
ReplyDeleteSimilar thoughts. Enjoyed.
ReplyDeleteThin ice excuse, oh we'll be experiencing much of that very soon here!
ReplyDelete