Maybe spring is the haiku season, but winter could creep in a close second, with the breathless powder cutting into your face and the winds numbing your exposed skin, head down and hood up, tunneling through bright ice blue sky and crunching boots in packed snow. Earth lies asleep under a white blanket waiting to waken with the tingling growth of spring. In the season of ice, everything glows and sparkles with icy light, reflects diamond prisms and crystals against the blank, creamy background of snow's mystery.
however, it is damn cold out there!
and maybe for the best, I feel the need to be abbreviated, to say more with less. to be pithy...and leave you to interpret things in your own experience.
Winter shuts us in
Casts shadows of icicles
On shuttered windows
love,
Stacy
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