Last winter I knew the height of all the bridges. I slept on hard surfaces in emotional beds of regret. Last winter served me lessons I couldn’t refuse.

(walking the slick streets with my face to the wind just to feel alive)

And now I’m in January with perfect vision looking back. How I grew stronger on the tile floor. How I found a gift in the darkness.

Gratitude comes quietly to lift my head. Hums a melody I know by heart. Here I’ll stand for a little while longer considering the low bridges. How they saved me with their proximity.

How they led me to this place.

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