return

a poem from a recent workshop

Teenagers lounging in 
the tall grass at night,
in some warm and
sheltered vale. 

You must close your eyes and
lean into sleep, for in your
thoughtless abyss there is
peace. You know this. 

After the rain, you will wake
once again to familiar and frostbitten
fingers. In a thousand years, 
they've never failed to thaw. 

Life is coming back again as
the sunlight peeks through
angry clouds. And the meadow 
engulfs you in heat.

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