The naked branches of the maple trees
against the shadowed bulk of the pines
on the horizon
remind me that winter’s violence
is not over

I take an indirect path around you through the kitchen
like an orbiting body circling spiraling
a gravity well
Counting time – coffee poured and milk back to the fridge –
before we collide

The storm that swept through last week has moved on to some other place
but the broken limbs remain as evidence of
action and reaction
Those’ll have to be cleared away before anyone
comes to visit

As you crouch in front of the fireplace
I circle again to reach the door
Let in the dog
Her wriggling presence a buffer between us
as I approach

I chide my superstition and tell myself the storm didn’t come just because I shoveled the walk
like watering the garden or washing the car seems to invoke
a summer shower.
Winter comes and then passes and spring will arrive
And I wait for it



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Winter by kayemnic is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

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