gleams from snow
a few windows loose orange beams
fires burn low inside
a couple snowshoes
stop to hear breeze make trees creak
snow fall from branches
and if they're very lucky
feathers whisper crisp air
as an owl hunts
midnight brings them back to the cabin
to fight off frostbite with whiskey and warmth
but nothing nothing nothing else
could bring them memories like those
snowshoes collected in the forest
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