When where you hope to be again
is an idle dormant time
where the streetlights shine their soft golden haze
reflecting off deserted snow in those cold ocean days
when such a faded, sleepy gaze
repels the resting clouds and their flickering twilight glow
when nonetheless time turns and leans
heavy haunted and slow
still notes as puffs of warm air while you sleep on your side
still fears and calm your eyes too wide
as the world blows by
they remain as wills on winds
like a deep sea anchor
staring at these white out conditions
temporarily together again....
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