Notes About The Poem
image frin vecteezy.com
WINTER'S BITE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
First, a whisper~
then the gnawing.
Fingers forget their names,
breath hangs like stolen silver.
The wind wears its teeth,
chews through wool,
licks bare skin raw.
Even the sun shivers,
pale as a widow’s cheek.
Morning frost~
a thousand knives
left overnight
in the yard.
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