A cardinal flaps its wings in a country of snow.
Its blood will not freeze.
Its red feathers are a revelation when all is white.
Nightmares exist only in the dark.
I must face the truth when the sun is high,
when the world is luminous and open.
I rummage around in a closet that is not my own.
I take a notebook and write these poems.
I must give them back. I must let them go.
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