a thousand brief winters

Sometimes I can just put it out of my mind.
It drops away like the final leaf on a naked tree
leaving me ready to stand against the winter.

A brief coldness that passes like a sharp wind,
and I realize it’s better to bloom than worry
since within I know I love her.

Regardless of what I think has happened,
it’s better to make a fool of myself in private
than to boyishly act unsure.

Because I know where my suspicions begin.
They are born in the marrow of my psyche
where I cannot hide from what I know I would do.

So my emotions hide in the ground,
waiting for the winter wind to pass by
and giving me time to face what I fear.

© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing

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