I Live in My Winter


I Live in My Winter

Removed from the junipers’
fragrance, separated from
prickly pears gracing
the hill, limestone slabs
jutting from thin soil,
and smoke drifting from
a well laid fire on a cold
night. Old, today, I
call the clouds my
birthright, want only
to merge with them
and rain through
another black coffee
in this unfamiliar place,
this new home,
this welcome peace.

8 thoughts on “I Live in My Winter

  1. Your current locale far more suited to life’s winter analogy than Texas hill country … this poem tugs … an appeal to living where “just staying in” would be recognized as practical (as opposed to perceptions of laziness – Texans keep doing yard work all winter!)

    Liked by 2 people

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