Icicles Poem by John Rickell

Icicles



Morning, breaking icicles decorate the crabs
crystal chandeliers snapping in the sun
tinsel on the lawn to melt and merge.
Leafless January crisp and clear awaiting snow,
as adventurous aconites peep and say ' Hello'
A scarf about my throat,
memories of Christmas, flaming pudding, silly hats
waiting February's bitter cold
looking to March and daffodils.

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