perjantai 17. helmikuuta 2023

ON THE FORTY-EIGHT DAY OF THE YEAR

Water dripping from the eaves,
but the temperature dropping
we'll have icicles on the eaves over
the weekend, ice hanging there
reaching through the air
towards the slumbering earth.

You never see icicles fall, that
moment they are coming to
meet the frozen soil. You just
find them on the ground,
shattered after their
spell in the air.

17.02.2023


#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse 

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