It's been such a long, long time.
The winter seasons bit my hands
Leaving traces of frostbite on my fingers
Trailing beneath the skin.
Blood pumped lethal cool to my head
And nothing happened,
Save the total halt of all thoughts to the contrary.
My fingers thawed when sun first lit
Upon the pages of my skin,
Flighting away the cool winter deadness.
Spring is a new beginning,
Certainly for poems that lie dormant in ice.
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Comments about this poem (An Apology by Liz Annson )
- Ludio ludius Lego, michael walkerjohn
- Right to exist, hasmukh amathalal
- Dead Leaves, David Lacey
- Brookstones, Cee Bea
- there it is, Bill Cantrell
- Broken Mirrors Haiku, David Lacey
- In the Deserts of Exile, Jabra Ibrahim Jabra
- True Poetry Is Like A Rose, Denis Martindale
- Lovely butterflies Fly by, See I, Harindhar Reddy
- Believe and trust, hasmukh amathalal
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