This morning, I walked out to frost. Frost amidst vineyards creates a charismatic incongruency. Nothing less than visual poetry.
Charisma
Frost should have
brought diamonds
between
rows of vines.
But when
blue
ice revealed itself,
I realized
skies
were willing to
fall and
fracture
to come closer
to beauty
even
when loveliness is
temporary and
cold.
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