This blue marble

– and yet it spins

Thoughts of January in February

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winterThe days are short,
The sun a spark,
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.

Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor.
Milk bottles burst
Outside the door.

The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees of lace.

The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.

(John Updike)

(Helsinki, Finland; February 2016)

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