Paint Some Trees

It doesn’t snow here
The ice would marry the red dirt
And the ghost gumtrees
Would become a canvas
For blood red handprints

I see my breath instead
Winter catching in my throat
Like a secret
Cold stuck in my lungs
Like a disease

The icy breeze gets in my knuckles
It swells my bones
And scares my body
From the inside out
Pushing needles through my skin

Fifty years from now
When the cold is too much
And my body old
I will envy the very day
I am living now

Best go paint some trees

 

 

 

1 thought on “Paint Some Trees

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