Soles At The Hearth - Poem by Joe Bisicchia
Outside, just another frigid blizzard.
And so, as all our cold trekked roads run adrift,
our feet have come to this.
Frost meets our heat at the glass with mist.
Good to know the nightly fire inside
as we loosen our tongues
Published in Sheepshead Review, Spring,2015
Comments about Soles At The Hearth by Joe Bisicchia
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You