The further away I get from the stagnation.
The more at ease I feel.
Yet, an inquiry begging me.
How far does the embattled flee.
There is nothing poetic to be said, about mid winter’s thaw.
The lurking of a musky past.
Pungent and raw.
Abandonment coming in lanky, sodden trials and tribulations.
Walks pardoning deliberate, devastation.
Renewed faith in the substance of letting go
A once in a lifetime decision to remain frozen…
would allow the dirty to decay.
My thoughts crippled in the mud of old snow.
My stride enlightened
The further the distance between