Late Winter BluesA Poem by therisaSense Of melancholy Fills me. For Winter is Suppose to be Over. Yet It linger around Like the smell Of stale body odour In a locker room. Polluting My delicate Senses. As Another dusting Of snow Graces the ground. In A thin white blanket Before dissolving Today. Wondering If I have turned The calendar To the right page For the month Of March. Sigh. Hoping Beyond hope This is truly The last blast From Ole Man Winter. Shudder At the thought Of a late Spring In May Again.
© 2013 therisaReviews
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1 Review Added on March 22, 2013 Last Updated on March 22, 2013 AuthortherisaOntario, CanadaAboutA pre-op transwoman, writing about my experiences, using free verse. Been told my poems are very emotional and personal, almost like a diary entry in verse. If you want to friend me, please review.. more..Writing
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