Spaces
on the paper, snow-white,
a
blizzard with no birds in flight.
I
need to say something to fill
the
blanks in front of me, to build
a
snowman with dark charcoal eyes,
a
carrot nose, smiling charcoal teeth,
and
charcoal buttons, vertical in
a
row, you know, to contrast the
bright
blankness of snow. Such a
silly
game I play on myself this
morning
as I struggle to fill these
blank
spaces of white. Now, I’ll
try
again to find the words, this time
I’ll
imagine green—blades of grass
and
90-degrees, shade and leaves—
It’s
summertime.
Chris
Hanch 6-2-18
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