Friday, December 14, 2007

one saturday morning

I walked out this morning
The wind felt frosty on my cheekskin
I like the winter
The dry crispness that pulls on my face
It's as if everything the landscape
has to offer is there for the taking
there is no waste

In the summer
And its sunny abundance
I feel drowned
As if I can't take away enough
so I can breathe
I need air,
in the suffocating heat.

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