it's cold again.
janaury is white
and without mystery.
it is blue and grey
against the still
earth. birds
shiver in the pines.
and we hold gloved
hands, kiss against
the speeding hours
of time.
these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters and are in no way representative of any real
experiences in my or anyone else's life. any similarities are purely coincidental, except for the dog poems.
No comments:
Post a Comment