Thoughts in winter stumble with
a stop-action rhythm
both jarring and comforting.
With hard edges and delicate skeletons,
they push to the forefront of consciousness;
greedy, needy and completely camouflaged
in the light of the cold January sky.
Stark, and yet promising of rebirth.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, I suppose so.
LikeLiked by 1 person