The winds have blown and I'm bunkered down
'Round the rusted tool shed.
Fenceposts hover in fog that surrounds
My mouldy single bed.
Christmas went like a hummingbird's breath.
Hoarfrost drapes the trees.
Barn rats stiff surfboards, fur drab in death.
I babble on my knees.
My Love is fingering her present,
New in a better wrap.
I stumble on the meadow's descent,
My caring verse is crap.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
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