and realize that may be winter’s best gift
not an idling to be tolerated but a softening to be acquired
time too does this
the body no longer acquiescing to the drive we’ve taken it on
its edges gently blur as we continue
all the same
days and months spent wondering furtively aching clinging
clouds
steam
puffs of smoke
we hold nothing in our hands but our own life from the first catching breath
there with that gentle rhythm of valves pushed open to the flow
this life blood spills in so many ways
and all shimmering with crimson depth we continue to strive to hold
despite the odds
this feathered body’d proof the dog pauses sniffs
this paying respects in this gentle way and moving on