Dear Winter,

go away. no one likes you anymore. especially at 2 degrees. especially when you drain car batteries. especially when the drained car is behind mine in the driveway. you are mean and nasty and negative. negative. negative. Especially in the dark. But no matter – I have poetry and this morning even before I knew how cold you were, I wrote in your dark, almost, almost finished a poem and felt a current running so fast through me, your chip and ice couldn’t touch me.

So suck it.
Spring and poetry will get the best of you.

your frienemy,

Rachel

This entry was posted in seasons, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Dear Winter,

  1. Takes more than sub-freezing mornings to get a poet down. Good for you. Take that, Winter.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

 

Valid XHTML Strict and CSS