Monday, December 21, 2009

This wet snow
in lumped piles
makes walking as hard
as traveling through tears.

My feet keep moving
gravity and will pulled in separate directions.
This wet snow wants to stay close
migrate onto my skin

somehow birds manage
to dry their feet without freezing
tucking them into feathery hollows
shedding water into cold air

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Thoughts

  In my work as a psychotherapist, I am fascinated by how often a persons’ stories interact with their natural landscape. How much of their ...