Winter,
thief of autumn’s
sigh and skip and vibrant buzz,
even fire cracks in your embrace.
At first your cold was cute
and clean.
My skate blade cut a circle in your center.
I admired your white,
tasted your gale,
celebrated
as you closed school and store…
week after month after holiday
you held a grudge against the spring;
grasping groundhog round the shadow of his
throat, you’ve lost your
chilly charm.
You need anger management therapy,
a little sun,
some time down south.
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