Winter in her soul
sounds so Shakespeare
High Drama the reflected light
of colliding fates exploding lives
the only light there is in the
thick cold dread
frozen in place after
But
it is winter in me
finally and it is not
as advertised it is
the opposite of Drama
opposite of dread
Winter is calm and so quiet
Quiet enough to hear the wind through
trees before it rattles all my windows
I am inside myself tending winter
which feels not Shakesperian
but like a farmer tending sleeping crops
tulip bulbs or a deep root vegetable
a carrot maybe a radish
dreaming slow and resting
waiting for the spring
Puff Of Smoke Poems 
lovely
that’s how winter feels for me too
I am a dormant seed
Cozy, isn’t it? Waiting to bloom is a full time project.
I’m looking for the hope contained in the seeds and bulbs of winter.