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A keen glimmer of things to come
I feel my toes tingle
anticipating the wet chill of snow-crusted shoes
melting in the hushed heat of my home
as I wrap my feet in warm wool
my life a pomander bulwark against gloom.
White city dotted with bundled smiles
Each little hermit crab letting in the light of a stranger’s hello

Filed under: Poetry | | Comments Off on warmcold

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