The Way Out

Winter Woods XXV by RealityDream

“It’s only spring up to the knees.”
My daughter dribbles her ball
as the season pulls on its high socks
hoping to get put in the game soon.

“Just a matter of time,”
I tell her without believing it.
True, the forest reopened its sauna,
sweating out puddles of frost.

Still, frigid flakes impulsively fall
lacquering the trees
in starched white coats;
surgeons biopsying sunshine.

Winter’s dandruff is repulsive
and each day indoors feels woolen.
No new cars scratch the driveway,
so now even the way out will chafe.

Happy NaPoWriMo Day 14. This poem was written for a free-verse NaPoWriMo photo prompt created by Amaranthine Lover. Every year she inspires me to write fresh free verse poetry.


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