Two layers of coat.
Another layer of socks.
Tights under my jeans.
And they can’t keep me warm
If the cold comes from within.

It was I who let the winter in.
It knocked on my door,
Saying it’ll bring the summer,
And spring,
Fall and all–
And like a roof I can trust,
Not to collapse on my head when it rusts.
But it’s just the second start,
And a whole lifetime ahead of it.
Time to fix, and mend,
Plant, and tend.

But I’m waiting.
For if it is meant for me
It’ll come for me.
If I am its home
It’ll find me.


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