poem from November 8th

the weather has caught up with me
time to bar the doors against it
light candles
and stare into my soul
time to wrap myself in grief
and watch the leaves fall in galestorm
with my hopes
once nature is bare and cold
we can hold hands
and then, under blankets
shiver together in disbelieve
awaiting spring
which may come with trepidation
peeking small shoots
observable from my chair, my candle, my blanket
and if she is convincing enough


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