Forcing Forsythia
After so many years
I finally reply.
across all those snowy
New England winters,
hushed and swathed thick
in white and ice.
Our first words
flared fast
until I hardly remember
what cooled them.
short slips
carried in from the cold,
when I finally write you,
my words
are narrow gnarled stubs,
tight fists,
hardly budded.
Shuddering
after so much
raw rain.
HMMooreNiver
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