Garrett Spelman

Winter, to me, isn’t about all those things you see on TV. Buying gifts for friends and family, hanging decorations and catching snowflakes.

Winter is a change in the world. Reds and golds of autumn turn to the whites and blues of winter.

If you squint your eyes just enough you should be able to see both the backs of your eyelids and the haze of your eyelashes.

Standing before me, floor to ceiling, colossal and beautiful, was the grandest mirror. Behind its glassy surface was a violet fog that seemed to glow and ripple like the muscles of a great beast.

Sometimes when I dream during the day,
be it staring at a sunset,
watching the moon rise,
or seeing the morning leaves fall in autumn,
I wish so truly that I could pause it all.
Slow it all down to a thousand years or more.

There’s a palace in the sky,
Peacefully drifting,
Swaying in the breeze.

Its tall, vibrant green trees
And the many houseplants
Sitting in pots on the sills
Have their leaves ruffled
By a warm spring wind

The flowers in my hair
They remind me of my memories.
Places I’ve been,
People I’ve met.
Their magenta red purple pink white lavender is my favorite color.
They might not be natural flowers,
But they fit in well.