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The Breath of Winter

TORI S. BARENDREGT | CREATIVES



The breath of winter –

the only breath visible on naked air –

slips from between warm lips, twirls in pirouettes,

to the song of morning’s silence,

on the invisible stage erected of loose air suspended

above the snow-ploughed road in a slumbering town,

evaporating to the applause of winking stars

and before eyes still cloaked by sleep

that are yet wide and more alive

than the sun lumbering just below the horizon,

watching her own palm stretch out,

cupping the day’s first snowflakes

sighed on

the breath of winter.

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Grapeshot acknowledges the traditional owners of the Wallumattagal land that we produce and distribute the magazine on, both past and present. It is through their traditional practices and ongoing support and nourishment of the land that we are able to operate. 

Always Was, Always Will Be 

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