Well, I know now. I know a little more how much a simple thing like a snowfall can mean to a person
Winter dawn is the color of metal, The trees stiffen into place like burnt nerves.
I could feel the winter shaking my bones and banging my teeth together.
Winter is for women The woman still at her knitting, At the cradle of Spanish walnut, Her body a bulb in the cold and too dumb to think.
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