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The withdrawing



each day a little snow has fallen

collecting         in crevices

changing his temperature                  degree by degree

so faint                        that only he can notice


large round flakes fall

onto his arms              face                breast

hold their shape                      for a moment



He sees                        a dusting of snow                   on his shoulders

caressing                 over these last weeks                        accenting their bony shape

no energy to shake it off                    almost does not feel

the loss of warmth                  slowing blood


dark wind’s fury grows                       sneaks in through cracks

blows flakes                  smaller                      at an angle

onto his side                      making

mounds                     on hips


                weight               almost             nothing

each morning                  muscles                               tighter

slower                                     becoming rigid

            blood cold                               almost ice


buried under drifts                                bound joints

                        frozen flesh

                entombed in a          home of snow


deeper                eyes closed




© Sharon Lopez Mooney, "The withdrawing", originally published in Literary Forest, Issue #4, ed. Abbie Hart, Houston, TX, USA 2022.

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