Seasons Change Poem by Kevin Moore

Seasons Change



Snow drifts down as old wives' whispers - piling
up in gossiped heaps against the house we built -
covering the earth with unstained pictures of what might
have been - now dormant truth (not postcard perfect)
lives on in images we draw as breath -
we live what might have been our Springtime, once.

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Kevin Moore

Kevin Moore

Fayetteville, Arkansas
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