Advent 2 Poem by Jacqui Thewless

Advent 2



Till March saps spring,
Everything falls away,
all passes, except this

mysterious spiral I
am moving in. You can call here
winter if you will:

invisibility rules
as single leaves
in the wet woods begin disappearing,

losing all mass,
all weight,
all shape -

and the sky widens eyes
glimpsing
the nearest thing I'll see to infinity.

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