The snow used to glitter at the beginning.
Now it’s just a cold, dirty mess.
Dulled down brain, discolored flesh,
novocaine needled into my toes.
Black and blue nails, less sensation.
Not as pretty as I used to be.
Not as high energy, what’s the point
of opening my mouth
for another snowflake that might appear
to offer a slightly unique size and shape,
but will soon melt into nothing.
(photo by Bree)
Juliet Cook lives in Medina, OH. She is the Reader, Editor & Designer at Blood Pudding and Thirteen Myna Birds presses.