| powder_days | ||
| dafremen |
Red mittens in the snow Such red hands warming at the fireside Fingertips as rabbit ears Sit twitching as they thaw Shudder-coaxing, static blizzard Soundly rude upon awaking Straining at its chains to break them all Tempest in the television Rages against its cage to no avail Not even the mighty dim and hollered Chorus of that empty channel Can help it get away There's no escape Snow spattered screen remains a reminder of these winter days Tall boot's melt meanders the kitchen tiles Traces cracks between them for awhile Then circles headed out the door Or so it seems Trickle-born cold water ribbon drips to life then slips away On these cold-enough-to-set-hands-throbbing Placid walks through crisply barking powder days. |
041215 |