a New Hampshire Kind of Cold


When the trees talk like a playground of little children…

It is a New Hampshire kind of cold.imageedit_120_5650719992

When an already graying muzzle looks like a pile of powdered sugar…

It is a New Hampshire kind of cold.

When the earth moves below sedentary feet…

It is a New Hampshire kind of cold.

When the bark is pulled from the birch…

It is a New Hampshire kind of cold.

For such a small state of consciousness.

It takes a large dose of skepticism.

And, more than a pinch of foolishly bold…

To walk within, a New Hampshire kind of cold.

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