February

A Tipped-Over Fire Hydrant

Windows down
Winter wraps around my neck
February twilight again
I dread the setting sun

Small drink in the morning
When i get back
I dread the rising sun

When i promise myself in the middle of the night
Tomorrow i'll go
I don't dread the rising sun

When i wake up
In the cold, blanketed morning
I know i won't
I dread the rising sun

Writer/s: A Tipped-Over Fire Hydrant

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