Show me a Russian
roulette of breeze,
confetti tumbling from
skeleton trees, a dark
wonderland of the
winter freeze and a stretching
necklace of red;
winking and blinking
up
ahead, to light
all my yellow brick
road…
Let me follow
bright sugar-drops,
all the way home, like
a fabled,
breadcrumb trail;
and tell me then, a
snow-queen tale, as I
turn
Fortune’s fragile
wheel.
Ice-encrusted, it
melts to reveal, awesome
moments of sharpened
breath; and I look
back
and forth
at depths
of tomorrow,
and tomorrow,
all at once,
all at once,
as fallen stars creep
up on me,
and whisper,
they were there all
along.
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