
the nature of january is cold, raw,
it’s bottoming out,
the point of nothingness,
dare we say hopeless,
when there’s nothing left to hold onto but the skeletal remains of what’s eating away at us.

the nature of january is cold, raw,
it’s bottoming out,
the point of nothingness,
dare we say hopeless,
when there’s nothing left to hold onto but the skeletal remains of what’s eating away at us.
That is indeed the crux of winter. I trust that it will then give way to the balm that follows the tempests of early spring.
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Yes! Thanks for reading and commenting.
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