Body in Winter

     the trees blurred and shattered, faintly against
the catacomb of light,
collected snow from the vault of sky
blistering stings into the eyes
of an earth-weary pilgrim,
limping on hope
like a youngling on ice

The Hands are Massive.
Behind the eyes,
       circular memories
now careen to and fro, in and out of focus

    one foot falls into abyss

body floats disregarded

and reaches the trees,
failed in success.

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