More snow?
Could be 20 inches
down east, and the mill
stinks all the way to town.

Saturday you washed
the car, hosing one side
of the windshield as I
made faces at you
on the other side
of the glass.

Spring seemed to breathe
closer, whispered I could
to my unbuttoned coat.
The air was full of maybe
and mudseason jokes,
but now it's check the tire,
buy milk for the coffee,
bread for the duration.

This ain't MGM baby.

This is winter
grabbing the lapels
of the landscape
and giving it an icy shake
before creeping behind
the clouds, hiding from
Persephone's melting gaze.

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byAngeline© 3 comments/ 3404 views/ 0 favorites

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