SNOW "Rhyme Royal"
In the wood I walked one evening by myself and I fight
its not summer, it’s not spring, not fall, its cold, its winter
Hot is summer fall is brown green is spring, winter is white
Snowflakes from above in the wind so slowly they glitter
walking and talking to myself I am a word-eater an forester
the sky looks like a whiter shade of pale, milk-and-water
I am sending you this notes I am not an down-and-outer
Poetry by Dan Cederholm
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Written on 2009-01-04 at 17:12
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Dan Cederholm |