poetry for snow days

my poetry is not
the kind you hear
at a slam.
it’s not impassioned and
rhythmic and in your face.

sometimes I envy those poets
and their careful cadences,
their performances and their power.

but this is poetry
meant to be
consumed quietly
by your eyes,
maybe printed out
and carried in your pocket,
pulled out when you
need a reminder.

there’s room enough
for all of it.

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