December 22

comments 2
poetry

I can drive back now without google maps
back home?

one struggles with the definition

Snow in the forecast
I can’t find my gloves

somewhere still unpacked
the endless boxes

stacked haphazardly
in the stale spare room

like the thoughts
of an insufficiently

occupied mind
half-open and malevolently

unfinished

winter solstice
the temperature dropping

2 Comments

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