The river is freezing.
The trees stand in the snow
Like unburied skeletons.
The road is icy and goes nowhere.
In the distance.
The headlines of a car,
Bright yellow,
Like fire flies.
Someone
Still hopes and believes
Or has given up entirely.
I am not brave.
I think of the doors to my house.
They are closed, but they could open.
I watch the snow, undecided.
It may snow for days.
It usually does.
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