The last cold bite of the year together.
Ice, wish you could fossilize the cream
As an oasis to the desert
Of my dry years to come.
The inevitable ones
Willing to leave me
At once,
Cutting my branches,
Pruning twigs and leaves;
Prick but tear me not apart.
Uprooting costs dearly,
Takes life,
Bit by bit.
You see very often
The deserted sere roots too
Grow greenish
Once the tap leaks.
Hopes do die
And dying faith
Fails to see the last look.
Don’t you all feel the same?
The shame of being a burden?
Blankets still cover winter.
Summer shines alone.
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