White-robbed snow
wades between lanes
of black asphalt road
ready for baptism.
In my car, alone,
buried alive in traffic,
the sanctifying flakes
barely visible in headlights
act as disciples
to raise my hopes.
The trees are holy ghosts,
and I will immerse myself
in their light-filled glow.
©2024 | K.F. Hartless
Cover Art: Creative Fabrica





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