Poesy #1: Snow Day from the Other Side

The phone has not rung
and I pace like an unsure ghost
too-tired and shocked by the cold.

I think too many things,
cursing the purgatory of indecision.
It will be a day in media res –
somewhere between here and there,
between you and I.

Digital pigeons span miles
ferrying our bold words,
embers in an ice storm.

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