FrostA Poem by Island HippyFor my gran.In this still night Thick with sleep Biting cold is the air I tremble under the weight Of your absence In my waking up mind I must turn you to the third person Whispering softly to the universe Like the patient constructions of spiders, Working ‘pon the sil of the old sash window To the frost, she is history Gone from this world She is starlight. © 2018 Island HippyFeatured Review
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9 Reviews Added on January 26, 2018 Last Updated on January 26, 2018 Author
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