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four on hugging winter
samuel saint thomas

one ..
winter is nearing .. the solstice is lining up .. snow is awaiting the cue ..
the hand to rise .. to announce the blanket .. the baton of conductor chill..
bring on the B flat baby .. i’m ready .. ready with my pen to write away the blues ..
the grays .. the whites .. some green and a drab of brown brush .. 

two ..
bareness .. the dawn of yearning .. the wanting of the bursting bulb ..
it’s a
great pregnant cosmos .. encased in the darkness of water and woman ..
woman of the fertilized .. the nutrition of the flesh .. the nesting of the love child ..
it waits pruned .. soaked wet with desire .. then ice for a spell .. 

three ..
so i'll sing .. singing will birth a singing child .. dancing will birth a spring
a dance on the toes .. down on the heals .. the arms point away toward the sun ..
the sun of spring .. when new life stands up and says .. shine boy shine ..
so i’ll wait in the womb and kick .. to let them know i’m coming .. 

four ..
so freeze .. go ahead freeze .. snow .. go ahead and snow .. i’ve got
to think over .. boil .. mull .. stew .. and if i’m lucky .. some other lucky soul
will join me and
light candle two .. the one to the left of my smile..
tucked into
my head full of toil and wonder for the world that i long to embrace ..


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