Lynne . Tosh. (Montana)
Whom is that
Whom is that!
That I see in the corner,
the dark, cold corner?
As I trip forward, stumbling
because I am scared...
I wonder this.
When I get close enough,
I feel like I've witnessed a murder,
a murder, that brings a hiss of death.
Because the fiend in the corner,
was something otherworldly.
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Comments about this poem (Summer On Winter by Lynne . Tosh. )
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