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About This Poem
Mystery of the Window
A window before me sits
It’s frost crystals envelope
I fog it up with my breath
~ Hoping for revelation ~
I use my fingers to draw
Inspiration is quite dim
I make lines down the window
~ Not knowing implications ~
I finish playing along
I ponder the design there
With crystals and fogged window
~ I see developing thoughts ~
The glass tells me a story
I can’t recite what it says
But I smile with some wisdom
~ Never thought would be revealed ~
Russell Sivey
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