Song of Snow

And I have tasted salt
and blood’s iron bite,
the backwash of tears

mixed with bile; and I
have known what humbling
mouthfuls of sacrifice,

what burn of years and
their slow toil down
the gut. So let me now

taste new-fallen
snow, dissolving un-
complicated on the tongue.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

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