Something Else

Like an old wound healed crooked
The weather changes in remindful aches
With cold breezy chills over sunless hills

I sit
Apparently comfortable
Advising from somewhere outside of my in
Hiding long cold unseen spaces
Awakened again with reminders of unworthy

It is no storm nor ungodly tempest
I will not rave of unjust worlds
Mine is January
A snow falling sweetly beautiful
Where a first step bites long and deep with frozen teeth
Best seen … never walked
You know the path, it’s been walked before

Calm smiles spin such Illusion
Carefully padding zones of comfort
To remain guiltless in their throes
And clean of my dirty face

That’s just how it is
Words painting interiors
Are fog and mist
Faded beyond a manifestation’s pointless conjure

So the storm-less move among
That landscape of the Unseen
Walking heavy, holding wounds, trails of red
Medicine buried deep
Hiding inside shadowed hoodies
Softly smiling at you
And at me

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When the cold weather brings memories of yore….nice read:)


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