out the frosted window

little black seeds
haphazardly strewn
on slick, sun-shined ice
tiny chickadees
black caps bobbing

After a long winter

seventeen outside
roads bare for first time in months
feels almost like spring

the Pennsylvania sky

flattest steely-blue
smothered beneath scattered clouds
muting any sun
skies stalwart and silent as
the down-trodden men below

breaking through the coldness

morning diffuses
through thickly frosted windows
your lips soft with sleep

the median

the sun
dusts the horizon
pink, gold, lavender

a single star
lingers uncertain
whether to stay

the moon
slips
below the horizon

taillights stay
firmly on the right side
of the road

I sleep
in the middle
of our queen sized bed

as you sleep

I watch the night wind

as it wings through the valley

my arms, your blanket
I listen to the stars
as they sing you into sleep

as were Hansel and Gretyl

a trickle of words -
breadcrumbs leading back to self
sprinkled across snow

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