December 30, 2016

Wisps


We briefly awaken

to winter cold,

having nowhere else to go,

sensing spring

has not yet come,

wishing only

for sleep

to take us in.


Our hibernation

has barely begun,

as we rest beneath

fresh fallen snow,

a cold wind

blowing our drifting souls

across the road.


No one asks

where we've been,

caught in headlights,

appearing so soon

to them, again.