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snow angels



the blades scrape away
blankets of pure white
torn shredded pushed
aside
tiny foot prints
pattern lace across the surface
as the birds decide it all
to be real today
the mountain melted in march
begins its assent
to meet the stars
beneath the sign posts
new olympus
waiting for gods
out of parlor tricks
to take their places
the cold infuses bones
hearts and toes
the familiar numbness
remembered all too easily
while blinded
by the deceptive light
which once warmed



The BEST holidays

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