When you breathe in you can feel the sharp spikes of winter
There goes another one, preparing for the winter Olympics, a dedicated sprinter
You can feel the quiet crunch of snow under your boots
You can see on the trees, the fresh winter fruits
Hear the branches swaying in the gentle breeze
The leaves brushing against each other slightly
You pull your scarf around your neck, giving it a small squeeze
Looking at the sky, you smile brightly
Another beautiful day, it might be
~ 10/2/21

Wear a scarf, off we go
Ice skating skills we love to show
North Pole we go, let’s be bold    
Together we snuggle around the bonfire
Eat fondue, exchange chats, what a life we wish to get!
Rolling on the snow and have fun with dear friends!

i have never understood when
someone tells me that snow is beautiful
the shimmer of white dust
settling like a veil on the now dying grass
the grey clouds they’ve descended upon
the yellow of dog **** giving it its only color.

how is that gorgeous?
don’t you want to make a snow angel?
let’s go sledding!

i want the summer
i want the springtime
i want to open my sunroof
feel the cool breeze on my skin
take of this ******* hoodie
go outside
go on a walk
look at the trees
remember that people exist.

i’ve never liked flowers
i don’t have a good sense of smell
but I would take the pain of a beesting
over the tears of a snowman any day.

And then I saw among the throws
A thousand summer winds below
Trickling away goes the light,
To bring the autumn in it’s fright.
Frosted and frigid the winter goes
In which the snow gathers in icy globes
Spring comes without dismay
Through the rain and sun it shines away

respiring corridors
   interior hospital night

outside
                silenced
                         ­         the winter
away facing
                       patient pacing

    in palliative care
for the age-ed out expiring
     iterations of ejecting death
       darkly dressed haggy wet breaths
        beds engaged
          berths of great ferment

corridor ; raked in
corridor ; ridden out squalling

a patient who has yet to reach
   the concluding condition of his fellows
bellows
   'Shut The **** Up'
mad for sleep
he's lost compassion

The corridor labours on