Waking Up in Winter Well cocooned in winter blankets I cling on to skirts of sleeping, while uneasy dreams are shredded, gone before I grasp at meaning. Let me stay a little, hidden in this cozy muffled stillness, pulling up a layered muting over morning sounds and greyness. I admit that I’m delaying facing coldContinue reading “Waking Up in Winter”
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Barb, poet priest 