There are chores before the cold season ends.
Finish the box of cigarettes
shake the cold out of my hair
fire proof the wilting notebook
wear the felt boots once more
sit on a bus cozy with strangers
find the boxes of warm blood
in the closet
unknot my fists
write the eulogy
memorize the crocheted skeletons
send the ghosts home safely
go to bed without them.
Apr 8, 2010
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