and the leaves now
have undressed the trees
on this island of islands,
bare and brazen,
but not afraid
of the winter’s whisper,
of the threat of her howl,
while the whole damn world cowers,
the trees now
are rooted in sand so deep
they found soil
beneath soil,
beneath the leaves of their past,
this is how you greet winter,
with the warmth of exposure
and with freedom, unmasked.

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