if I told you
just how naked
the trees were,
I don’t think
you would have
believed me.
their cloaks hid
the icy surface
of the pond,
asked me to step out
onto nothing but
darkness.
if some of me
is home with you,
I’m one leg in
deep. deeper
as the ice cracks
and the lines spread
out and away,
like roads to a
stock-still heart.
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