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Winter MAG
Walking after school
I am struck by the shape of this branch against the bleak sky
shockingly stark and
gray and unrepentant;
Stabbing upwards
so violently – as some knife into a pillow
a sudden rip, and feathers rain down like cloud.
The moment stretches, taut –
(unexpected eternity on a sunless afternoon)
– snapped
as I smile and remember how to breathe
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