The Cold Winter

A Poem by Ruth Nineke

 

The cold winter’s beauty

is buried inside

walls whitened

with Saturday’s mid-morning sun,

down under

comforters that bathe

and encapsulate our skin

in deodorant

and last night’s cigarettes

We awaken

without alarm

welcomed to reality

by the possessive radiator’s

steady

hiss and clamor

 

© 2013

 

 


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