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The afternoon light,
orange and brooding,
fell across the virgin snow
the way words fall
on raw heartbreak.

Blasts of silence
and metaphors for
the frailty of time:

lattice of shadows

sundial that isn’t
intimate with the hour
but knows its truth
is more than a trick
of the light

thoughts stranded
in an hourglass

heavy and shatterproof

grains of sand at sub-zero

blanket of white made soft
by each moment of pain
having its own
distinct snowflake
for a soul

skeleton of tears and pauses

six-sided empty spaces

sparkling in the muted sun
even as it collapses
and drowns into the vast
ordinariness of winter
laying its verses down
indifferent and unclothed

over the city
and its belated consent
to the pervasive cold.

“Sparkling Snow” by photographer Hannah Jor


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