Maria O'Connor

Maria O'Connor Poems

Which Me Am I?

I'm not always the same,
I change from hour to hour.
The change is almost instant,
Yet only if you are looking.

Winter Death

Gnawing, biting, silent cold.
Creeping in among the world.
Driving the life away.

The Walk

I walk outside through the frigid air,
Watching people rushing everywhere.
Everyone has their eyes turned down.
I'm alone in looking around.

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