Just a lil poem

Whipping crappy little poems out because I’m bored at work.
Try and enjoy:

I can’t recall perfectly but the winter last year
while just as cold, (colder maybe),
was not quite as sunny.
I can picture a massive grey mess of a city,
a quick blizzard or two,
here, or there:
and there was a broken heart and a mass
of maudlin poetry.
Things differ this year.

The chill in the air is
odd mixed with the light. Plastic white clouds
and highlighter-blue sky are out of place with
this wicked, turning wind;

I can almost see it whip around the corners,
across the streets, through the alleys.

Good call with the thick scarf, girl.

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