almanac

we fell into unwilling hibernation
that early spring. trees hadn't yet
bud their impertinent blooms into the
brooding ides of march. life,
oblivious, hadn't yet paid its room
and board for an early november
check-in. sealed in and slumbering,
breathing was made unprecious,
mattering dematerialized us, numbness
overwhelmed our stored selves. thoughtless meltwater loosened, dissolved, and removed the natural paths between us. and staying
in the back of our caves, surrounded by scant reserves, we never considered what wintering through another season's cycle might mean.

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