Wintry Morn

Oh white pixidust!
You cover the earth in a fresh page
for us to fill with rabbit
tracks and tire treads
–I hesitate–
to breathe in your stillness, the wake of you
is an invitation to contemplate
Will you welcome me in the morning, when I deliberate?
Or will you pass before the moon
shines its face upon your glass?
–You resonate–

Rebecca Whitman
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