The smell of snow
chases sadness away;
night in fading
leaves behind
proof of cold on
the rooftops of cars;
homeless men huddle
in sleeping bags
and intoxication
and exhale warmth
while years of frost accumulate
in their toes and in mine –
you live with it, you die with it.
A white sun pales and
powders brightness
over the rooftops
and into the mouths, noses, eyes
of unbelievers and
warms brittle skin.
Nothing stops her:
Window panes drip and branches,
too exhausted from winter
to laugh, crackle
soundlessly
like the fire
they remember
they will become.
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German poet Katharina Körting is a journalist and writer in Berlin.