winter

I am a gentle snowfall
a breeze making me dance
and a cool (not cold) night
by the water.

Do the deer rustle in their sleep
or is that a night prowler
foraging for odds and ends
in the shadows?

Too quiet for melancholy
I cover last week’s snow
with a fresh coat of chilly paint
without a sound.

Not a stirring within or without
To cut the peace apart, so all rest.

Published by WarrenBluhm

Wordsmith and podcaster, Warren is a reporter, editor and storyteller who lives near the shores of Green Bay with his wife, two golden retrievers, Dejah and Summer, and Blackberry, an insistent cat. Author of Full, Refuse to be Afraid, Gladness is Infectious, 24 flashes, How to Play a Blue Guitar, Myke Phoenix: The Complete Novelettes, A Bridge at Crossroads, The Imaginary Bomb, A Scream of Consciousness, and The Imaginary Revolution.

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