winter walk

 but fuck dude maybe there is something about 
warm winter jackets and 
soft winter snowfall 
and quiet footsteps in moss-riddled forest paths 
made by a thousand small boot-prints 
a criss-cross way cut through the brambles 
still the unruliness behind my eyes 
and quiet the storm of my mind. 
grinning smile-faces from fingers on windshields 
there’s nothing that is quite like walking and hearing the crunch of the white underfoot. 
and gurgling streams half frozen to mirrors 
and laughter of children carried on the wind 
the breath that accumulates before your nose 
and the bite of the air at your hands. 
there’s gotta be some name describing the magic 
that’s raw and untouched just below 
where the snow has so tightly-white blanketed us 
and i think the word might be called 

Finn Rose

Finn Rose is the pseudonym of a 25-year-old poet, fiction writer and overall creative from Germany. His works primarily deal with loss, tragedy and the subsequent healing through reclaiming and reforming identity. You can follow Finn Rose on twitter and tiktok @finnrosewrites
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