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161: Winter

This morning I opened the window.

It was arguably too cold

for that kind of reckless

window opening,

but I couldn’t help it.

Winter is so clean when she arrives,

so fresh and crisp. I wanted her

to run through my house

and touch everything.

I wanted her to move through

the drapes and the pillows.

I wanted her to run alongside

the pictures hanging on the wall,

blessing each and every one.

I wanted her to wake up my skin

and the dog’s curious nose.

This morning I opened the window

so that I could say to winter-

come on in. Wake us up.

We don’t want to sleep through

the change.

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I'm Sarah (Are) Speed, the writer behind Writing The Good. I'm so honored you're here! To get more poems, follow @writingthegood on Facebook and Instagram! 

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