i already spent my winter in summers
long ago
i retired from a shorter life
fractured by this and that:
the bleak house
the storms at 4:00
the traps
just over a few streets
stood the giant cross
foreboding
insistent
murder and hope
a tremulous self, i became
a shadow outside the door to the church
just leaning in enough to hear some words
and some singing
then turning away before
the Believers amble out
"saved!"
energy isn't saved
it is spent
every day
even in the darkest days
even at 4:00
***
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