the slowly-disappearing snow in the backyard,
a solitary robin on a desolate branch;
above, the sky stretches like faded blue silk: old, and empty of any warmth.
-
- Brat Farrar (
bratfarrar) wrote,
Brat Farrar
bratfarrar
poem by me: winter morning (with abused punctuation)
the slowly-disappearing snow in the backyard,
a solitary robin on a desolate branch;
above, the sky stretches like faded blue silk: old, and empty of any warmth.
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