January tea

 

Trees stand sentinel

to a greyness that deceives

rain soaks to bone no green

mud coats everything.

 

This time of day

nothing but night coats us:

fourteen hours of obscurity

no light & sleep digs deep.

 

Iris opens to room’s warmth

vibrancy in purple acid green

shadows on the wall a small

sprig of hope.

 

For now we hover

in hibernation

 

&

 

nothing is clear.

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