march is the coldest month

some will tell you that March is the coldest month of them all.
Thick curtains of clouds part ways that usher change

the groggy critters almost didn't get to witness
the bittersweet goodbyes crawl out
behiend a screen of breath condensate
and offer themselves to the great hole in the sky


this fresh glare of virgin Sun 
lashes at exposed skin,
Stealing the color from my cheeks 
                hair from my legs
                the life from my smile
through goosebumps, it all bubbles up

lungs: 
a wailing kettle that pleads
its cocoon be rot apart like a damp barricade
no longer fit for purpose
letting in a shuddered gust
that wields carved darts of ice like sycamores of the autumn, 
rolling-scissors that carve flesh
scrawling stinging symbols
intricate shapes that tell stories amongst themselves
of what used to be