“The Coming Winter” by Krista Detor

If we could be sure
this was the beginning
of the end of this mad dark
that we would not wake up
dreading another weary morning
wondering what new low
cruelty happened overnight
But we can’t know
at this point and just like
other black bottomless pit times
we have to keep breathing
maybe smile at someone
Find something today to be grateful for
Yes, it seems trite maybe
too small to make any difference
but this is how we will travel
to the other side—in baby steps
one foot, one breath
holding to some hope
like a balloon tied to a wrist
in a strong wind
but still holding on.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2025

From my poetic journal on 10/1/25