burning in the cold,
breath heavy and thick like clouds
that keep us apart

Tired, dry, sick, and yet
the snow has never stuck
so wet
instead, it rains
or snows and melts
forget the muck
the pain is felt
without the Winter to deflect us.

Wasps buzzing in figs,
a sharp sting for the sweetness
that gods claim to own.

It is cold and dark in the morning.
Night passes from evening until noon,
Short hours of daylight in June -
the clouds reveal sun without warning.

seduced by that
innocence
sounding so cruel like deer who
do not know to wait
they run head on
and live or die by chance

that is always the fear -
not even the timing
but the doing

an entire world is waiting
on the other side

so admire the grass
say things
ask.