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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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![]() today marks the first of many dawns i will stand and glare from my kitchen window coffee in hand & watch dew-eyed as day tears open to light the sun is merely a bleach-mark and mist still rests on windows and windscreens along frost starched
streets as the rime chocked air slashes visibly down to a few stifling fingers of breaths. a delicate crusting of frost still embraces the leaving of a bush; wet & bright-- a tribute to silver, say: the grass has shielded its naked green beneath the silver frost of a faded january sky. later after the sun-kissed afternoon receded, giving away to darker nights, leaf fall, stamping feet tightly folded arms & a-i-r-n-e-s-s — you know winter has returned, light is gone hearth is bare & i felt the first threat of frostbite from winter's sharp teeth as I closed my door to continue from where I started; my kitchen window. Comments are closed.
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Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
September 2023
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