Monday, March 1, 2010

It is a

Cold cold season.

But like spring
Comes after
Winter,

Life blossoms
After death.

And something real
Will come out of it.

Real,
Friendship
And laughter,
And ground


Under my feet...
To run on,
And arms at the end,
To run into.

And something tangible.
Something...

Alive.

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