Monday, February 28, 2011

rts (return to sender)

dark draft slips
down my sore throat
warm cold toes
every moment i reflect

the thaw came
melted the dirt
hiding treasure
mostly good stuff
not pop cans and butts

a few hours of night
energy melts from me
fresh burden settles in the trees
where it stays
where i return
to my frozen slumber

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