.
He left no trace
of wounded wings
or footsteps in the snow
She stands stalk still
against the elm tree near
the barren snow
(a trillion flakes of white if one!)
where he laid looking at the sun.
Afraid that if she moves
it will be true that
he has left,
she waits naked in the cold
And imagines she sees her angel
saunter down McMillan
on that frosty night
while she slept
.
2 comments:
I very much enjoyed. Thank you
Nice poem =)
http://lacalmaelavirtudeiforti.blogspot.com/
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