On thought
And irony,
Chewing on profundity like a ravenous cub
With never a premonition of the coming frost.
Feasting felt eternal
The air began to crust;
I shivered at the first snowflake
And retreated,
Full and fat,
In comfort for a season.
Sleeping,
I dream
Of green and growing times
And easy expansion
I close my eyes to erase the cave;
To bring back the summer…
The snow at the entrance
Builds
Barricading me in lethargy.
I mumble a groan of anesthetized terror
And rush to tell myself
It’s only a dream
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