Joe Bisicchia

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

and melt.

Published in Sheepshead Review, Spring,2015

Topic(s) of this poem: home

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, November 19, 2016

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