I'm not ready
for the rousing exuberance
of spring
I’m still craving fistfuls
of darkness and
flavors of silence
I’m wanting to winter longer
to move at the pace
of stretched-out-slow
to continue soaking
in the warmth of firelit nights
snow falling …
like flakes of gold.
I'm not ready to let go
I'm still wanting more.
- Lauren Taub Cohen
