Poem

Thaw

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The winter, having lasted longer than expected, sent cruel messages down the line. When the ice finally melted, there were more than the usual findings of bodies down along the waterfront: fingers gripping tattered blankets ripped from worn out sleeping bags, blood frozen black in the corners of mouths, eyes gone blank as the freshly thawed lake. We wonder what it must’ve been like drifting off to sleep beneath the weight of snow. But of course April comes around, and we forget, again, how terribly cold the world can be these days.