looking

I am waiting for it to pass, this
winter, this ebb of
tides
a slow roll toward
a dull ache…and
it will, they
always do
usually
mostly…
…hopefully
I look out on grey sunshine
on salt white streets
on and on
feeling the cold through
my eyes
watching silently
from perched windows
from where I am
above
trying to be there
longing to be
there;
above
I am waiting for
the warming of ventricles
arteries…veins
winter is in my heart
bleak and as cold
as I see from
windows looking down
looking
and looking
for a sign
that the cold, the razor sharp
biting and emotionless
cold
will pass, I am
looking for an end
and hoping
that it is
a beginning.

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