BEDS Poem by Elaine Feinstein
BEDS
Last night I wondered where you had found to sleep.
You weren't in bed. There was no-one in your chair.
Through every window the white, full moon glared .
I shivered in the garden. Where are you, my darling ?
I called out miserably: You will catch cold .
Waking, I let the daytime facts unfold.
Wednesday, June 6, 2018
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5/4/2024 4:37:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
