Winter when the sun comes in
of course there’s much to shine about
splintery with cold
the morning melts a little
liquid onto our northern faces
falls through the glass airily
and briefly feather filled
then there’s body warm to be had
gelatinous with light
velvety as skin
until the afternoon pipettes
away such puddling radiance
as has remained
and in the greying dusk we light
our inferior fires
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