Saturday, February 23, 2013


February is a month of blizzards.
Snow roaring in like wildcats from
the mountains looking for anything
to devour.

Snapped power lines send us
back to zero before the birth
of fire and light. My sanctuary
is a prison.

I age another year in February
in a fever of confinement. Lost
in books of places I will never

I could tolerate winter if it
were boxed into February
and March began the dance
of spring.

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