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Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Grab this poem this winter's evening it's a gift

Gifts for a Winter's Evening




This place—silver, cold,
 frightened all the elves away,
 they like to play.
My sister's tall and thin
like winter wind
There was a place for her but not within
The suburbs but the furs
Here in Glenora.

Wait for a new year,
We can tell her
By the faery lights across her falling
on her icy face like stars and then
they warm her neglected soul like
concrete pierced by years of wear.
He is strong and won her and
the safe white house.
So happy.

She likes to play
but I will give my sister
ginger tea and cookies;
Lewis Carroll and a poem
As though I, too, were wealthy,
somehow a partner in a faery firm
of miscreants.

 

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