I hate winter
the way the warring wind
seeps warmth from your
cheeks
ears
fingertips
makes tears fall from eyes
freezing to cheek
as I cross Tache to get to car
a semi-permanent record
creates fissures in our paved psyches
opening up our wounds to the world
red gaping incisions
that never quite heal
through a window from a warm house
there is beauty
pristine powder snow
pale blue sky
but it is illusion only as
the death of winter takes over all
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