drifting off roof
wafting across front yard
like string quartet playing scherzo
I watch through triple pane R-3 windows
winter taking hold
on bare branches
and iced roads
and reaching through the defenceless glass
and grabbing me by the throat
telling me to
stop singing
stop revelling
stop living
but I won’t I won’t
even
though
the cold
invades
from every
angle
I will sing on
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