winter(ing) portends

[ winter(ing) portends ]

yesterday continues possible not
un-bearable wanting
one
warm egg and its breath

..upon
barren
terrain staves off
no snow, surmounts
lamplight wary perennials fog

under
and when the cumuli lungesin
whites against the wrinkled sky weary trek across

no-thing's lost
of the Persephone perspective
no thing
on

the pomegranate skin
(and) when a heart lies
hidden in its un-
made syllable

...falls

discovers
one accepts every
hearting cabbage

surface wracked
i'll ice the buds
now fruit-full
now thrice di-

visible
* * * * *