Telling: Streams & Logs

Poetry

everything that fell

There were stars in the trees all day.

I thought I was broken. I was. I did. I had
broken, but something sinewed me back again.

The skin of ice on all the branches might have been a testament
to all I’ve left unspoken. And the boom and crunch 
of every step across the sea of frozen lawn, 
the sound of counting costs.

I can’t begin to tell you
what was lost. 

The cold ran across my feet all day
as I went about my business, while outside 
everything high was melting
and everything that fell
carried light.