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Snow

Rating: 3.3

Late December: my father and I
are going to New York, to the circus.
He holds me
on his shoulders in the bitter wind:
scraps of white paper
blow over the railroad ties.

My father liked
to stand like this, to hold me
so he couldn't see me.

I remember
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
P A Noushad 15 October 2020

Ever memorable childhood days of beautiful verses Louise Gluck.

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Colleen Courtney 14 May 2014

This piece also brought me back to childhood memories shared with my father. Nicely written poem.

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Sylva Portoian 30 December 2011

I feel when i read your poem... I feel I am a child... Nice to remember the Childhoodness

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