The poems are packing their bags for other countries, colder climes.
     Better to describe a handful of snow
          than to languish in the heat, edges blurring.

Better to crystallize into small smooth objects
     than to expand; better the fist
          than the open palm, or worse, the softened heart.

It seems abrupt because it is. I woke up with this in my head and not much else.


2 thoughts on “THRAMKWLLP:

  1. Isabel says:

    Perfect poem for this frozen-shut-windows morning here.

  2. DJA says:

    There’s nothing better than the fresh thoughts of a newly awakened mind.
    Thanks for the braingasm. I think I’ll read this again tomorrow morning. 😀

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