Thursday, March 31, 2011

end of march

stumbling through the chill to reach you, finding you warm and sockless near the end of March.
I am tired of winter but grasping hold of it with nails chewed short. I am writing terrible songs to scare off spring. Making hideous faces at the grass peering through the melting snow, curious to see me so wholly unwelcoming. I am whining and hanging back, pulling at winters long cold arms. It stops for a moment before turning it's flurries on me, opening wide it's fearsome mouth, endless black tongue dangling.
It is as ugly as I am, wrapped up in white coats with white fur
with the snow gone I wait for your wolves to find me.

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