As the seasons churn in Rochester, Minnesota, they get stuck.

My top half in a fuzzy sweater, my bottom half in capris rooted in sandals, red nails shining.

Matching lips turned up at the thought of it all.

Maples fiery torches, soon to release Nature’s confetti, are lighting our winter journey’s path,

calling for warm dress consistency, and a place of belonging on the other side, in winter’s arms.

The Post Bulletin publishes poetry by local and area writers every Tuesday. Send poems to with the subject line "Poetry submission."

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