Sunday, January 26, 2025

on wintry days like these




When cold grey covers my pointed hood

when Wind’s icy fingers grow

I think back to the sweetest Spring

to where my heart would go

down among the fragrant pines

in hollows steep with trees

I go there still within my heart

on wintry days like these

at
Labels:

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

whatever happened to excellence?

you know you're in the middle of America when the first notable sign coming into town is not the green city limits sign, but the high sc...

  • grandma's roses
    the whole house smelled musty an acquired taste for a twelve-year-old boy. it lingered even in the flower bed  where thin limbs wore green g...
  • why i do not write "more of the same"
    for those who actually visit the more popular social media sites where alleged poets and alleged authors seek to domicile within the confine...
  • Stoner Dogs Never Walk Alone
      it was long and narrow, but wide enough for a counter, and a decent donut display case. Behind that customer counter, we had to maneuver t...