I am casting out... the dust of winter...
in this expected... cold burst spell...
winter lingers lingering... coldest coldest... month in the year...
two weeks eaten... a third two days...
weeks weeks slowly eaten... finally into the forth...
Terence George Craddock (Afterglows Echoes Of Starlight)
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem