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Frostbite

I spent my first real winter in 15 years in upstate New York during the pandemic. I was living at the top of a mountain on an old sheep farm where the wind blew wildly and the snow fell all too freely. To me, it felt traumatic.

During that winter I realized that dealing with extreme cold is quite similar to dealing with grief, and this little poem resulted. Dedicate to New. York:

Frostbite Time passed; and pain turned into memeory
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