Poem: December Fourteenth

icicles grown
weary from the cold
and blowing snow
let go of my eaves
and shatter below
my kitchen window

the dripping melt
water drips down
christmas lights
in refracted glints
of green and red drops

tis’ the season
to find beauty
where you least
expect to see it.

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Computer jockey with a graphite pencil merlinspielen.com I enjoy random email: merlinspielen at gmail dot com

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