Winter’s Curls

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Chilled,

heavy laden is the snow

curled on darken limb.

Hooting,

nocturnal owl nesting

carcass curls among chilled eggs.

Swirling,

morning sky, awaits curl of color

along horizon as distant train hoots.

Sleepy,

heavy are my eyes, body curling

between swirls of blankets.

sleepy…

 

2016 slipped by with little poetry for me, maybe 2017 will inspire the poet curled away. I’m linking to dverse where curls are coming up in quadrilles

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14 thoughts on “Winter’s Curls

  1. I sit here in the heat if an Australian summer – and yet you create in me a tangible sense of winter.

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