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A warm(er) winter day poem

In which Brose attempts to write a happy poem and manages to write a not-totally-depressing poem. That totally counts, right? (also apparently Brose is referring to herself in the third person tonight, have I mentioned that it's been a weird sort of day?)

A winter day without the vicious chill
To which we’ve been accustomed feels like joy.
The sun shines down on me and my silly hat
And I feel warmth instead of biting cold.
I’d just about forgot what warmth felt like.
It’s good, this day. It makes me breathe differently,
As though I could run without falling down.
That isn’t true. The ice remains where cold
Clings, in the shadows where feet have ground it in.
But I can feel the sunlight on my face,
And, remembering the sadness that has passed
Believe that winter too must end in spring.

~

(Note: it's really freaking cold here and I'm sick of it. The end.)

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