My Winter
Days
Coarse, blunt hairs sprout from the top
of my nose like the salt wind stunted
trees along Somes Sound.
Why they have started growing
out that way is a mystery to me,
another curse of my Winter days.
I make my wife promise that when I
am lost and mindless in a nursing home,
she will come and pluck them
One by one.
December 27, 2021
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