A . T . Perkins
The Snow Covered Field - Poem by A . T . Perkins
The field, its blanket of snow
and blinding whiteness
The wet chill, the cold
cutting into me - my thoughts.
The vastness, I am but
The deadness of color, a desolate
plain - numbs your mind.
I am the only color, the only life.
In the cold
I find the meaning of
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You