mid winter memory

April 9, 2012 § 1 Comment

when Decembers blue
silk nights
drift down
these houses look the same
as they did the winter I sat in
window waiting for
at least a glimpse of her

it’s not often I return here
and oftener less on
a winters night

they call it melancholy

to me it’s frost on a window
I wipe off
every so often
to watch again
until, like an invisible spider
weaving crystal thread
the window is
covered once more
and I turn away

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§ One Response to mid winter memory

  • Thomas Davis says:

    A great, great mood poem, Fred, reminding us all of those that are no longer here even though we would wish them here, and, for you, a melancholy lost love poem. Beautiful.

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