Winter Alone

nobody seems to want to publish my poems, so I will write for myself this is probably more important

a big fat white god

hollows out my warmth

the tracks and steps

follow me, a ship

slowed by frost

like a heavy horse i breath ice

dancing at my door

this while stops

and you are not here

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the trek of loneliness, then coming home to no one....it's like in Macleish's poem Ars Poetica..."the grief/ an empty doorway or a maple leaf"---

someone was there but now is not...

very compelling poem...and i cannot fathom that no one wants to publish your poems..your writing is of such high quality, Leslie.
j.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

For the life of me I return here for a moment in time to read your sublime poetry once more and I for one cannot understand the world of publishing. Self publishing (on Amazon etc) seems to me a false God.
Another amazing poem in your individual short descriptive style.