Thursday, December 2, 2010

Soft

Soft

The world in white silence clad

`Til…

Scrape

The shovel rips white cotton world.


Then crow

Or seagull

Breaks the sound suspense

In a sense offensive

Innocence offended.


Soft

The contours of sweet slumber girl

Still warmth…

To countenance the rise and fall

Beside myself

In welcome duvet wrapped….

Soft.

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