Bone Freeze
Bent and bundled
in the cold woods. Hot breath
rolling out white ghosts.
Among the tall and grey boned -
these shadow-less trees
freeze framed
under a grey cowl sky.
Hungry woods are these
that swallow sound, churn
it into sleep-waking words.
Snow groans in the tree-tops.
A wolfish wind numbs,
I wish I could enter
any cardboard box
in any homeless town.
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