In the Winter Woods

And all around us,

the heft and play,

of winter woods,

the weight of cold air,

up and strong,

through into lungs

distilled light,

through ice,

up and dazzling into retinas,

the scent of overturned leaves,

just off the path,

dug up by passing deer,

and the great tree,

white pine,

where we are now,

and where we come,

getting what we need,

in these winter woods.

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