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.
Telling: Streams & Logs