
Typewriter Series #2770 by Tyler Knott Gregson
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Is it the sun’s departure, is it cloud
and snowfall covering light,
where do I go when the earth
tilts on its axis and the days
grow shorter? No longer entirely I,
for sure and certain,
half the me I was, half a shadow
following me around.
Winter makes me less,
or I make myself less and blame
it on the seasons, though they’ve
always returned, though I know
their schedule by now.
I wish I knew where I hibernated,
these pieces of me that wait
for thaw, for heat, for
deep thunder of late summer,
for first chill and the sound
of birds contemplating south.
I wish I knew wholeness
in the days of long darkness.
-Tyler Knott Gregson-
Published on October 27, 2019 20:24