the ice
grows thick across the pond
while the melt
of sun
slips under a blanket
of woolen
blue.
the skaters wait,
skates tied tight as
a moon rises
across the mirrored curve.
these are places where
lovers go,
where the lonely
go,
where children
play, and me
wondering where you
are today.
Friday, December 16, 2016
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2 comments:
Hmm, I wonder the same...
Melt of sun, blanket of woolen blue --nice
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