32 Degrees – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw

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The quiet between us
like floating icebergs
frostbit tongues in stillness.

Is it that we have forgotten what to say
misplaced our formula to speak,
a habitual slow retreat to safety?

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

I am uncertain how to start the
defrost cycle.

© Ali Grimshaw 2019

First shared on The Drabble

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