Each day brings me closer
\nto the coast of winter.
\nThe rinsed whiteness of the sky
\nis like a mother soul after birth.
\nThe wholeness of the bushes
\nturns into black needlepoint.
\nFlowers of frost melt in my hands.
\nThere are shimmers and hazes.
\nFog clouding the windows
\nof the air.<\/p>\n
Candles burning down on tables.
\nDancers coming in and out
\nof the dark.
\nMorning has the wings
\nof a gold bird
\nwith a song the heart hears.
\nMusic doesn\u2019t hide in a piano
\nnor does autumn close its pages
\nwithout a new place to begin.
\nThe room fills as it empties.
\nLife never leaves death without
\na friend,
\nor someone, you can ask
\nfor the next dance.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Each day brings me closer to the coast of winter. The rinsed whiteness of the sky is like a mother soul after birth. The wholeness…<\/p>\n