days of ruin

It is cold today
I wrap myself in silence
partner to the wind
warm my hands at the
flames, gaze out
at the pine hill, grey
moving cloud

perhaps if I circle
slowly, winding-in,
describe an ever-decreasing
line around myself

I will find who I am
at the centre:  covered
child
with all of my heart,
purity, intact
after all the days of ruin

and I will know my name
written on the white stone

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