Winter of Winters
No need to speak with mouths.
Moons have dropped like tears from our eyes.
Sadness is a ladder for us all to climb
Atop, where we'll eat sandwiches together and laugh,
Knowing
The struggle of wonder, that
Tradgedy is the forgotten joke,
The last ride at the fair,
The last star of the night.
In the winter we will walk shoeless,
Talking with other parts,
Bare-eyed and wandering,
Compassing hearts.
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