Winter finds a way
to intimidate.
Snake limbs on the
Medusa trees
turn the sky gray.
The marshmallow moon
seeks warmth
from a fast-fleeting flame.
Pine needles keep pinning.
White blossoms worrying.
Winds whine louder
than our complaints.
Creatures huddled
under the same wigwam,
awaiting warmer rains.
Truth be told,
spring is miles away,
down the concrete canal,
that hollow highway
where weary hikers
must trust an old road map
of stars to find their way.
© 2023 | K. Hartless





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