What do you see?
Cold? Frost?
I see something beautiful, even with the cold.
The birds are migrating so I see flocks pass by every day, but as their running from the cold, I wonder.
Do they find the snow pretty too?
What do you see?
Cold? Frost?
I see something beautiful, even with the cold.
The birds are migrating so I see flocks pass by every day, but as their running from the cold, I wonder.
Do they find the snow pretty too?
Today I saw my sister
the way she used to be—
not because she changed,
but because I remembered.
She was just there,
messy with noodles,
doing nothing special at all.
And somehow
When I was little,
the window was a battlefield of light,
streetlights turned into stars,
and the world moved fast enough
for a hero to keep up with me.
He ran beside the car,
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