winter in poetry

in the winter, the earth
scabs over
white blood cells bundled up
coating the wounds inflicted
from three long seasons of
birth and death
strife and storms
rot and germination

the earth
will hide
the earth
will sleep
the earth
will dream

in the winter, our hearts
should do the same
until the scab falls off
showing off the pink
fading scars beneath
hoping for another round