A Hundred Poems L
(Chopin's Ghost)
THE kiss of cold
--ness froze my soul
a tin can kicked
beyond winter's road
Hands in pockets
did not abate the shiver
ice-shattered thoughts
as i walk alone
The cobble-path stones;
across the way as i walk
and through a golden lilt
window-soul i hear
Chopin playing upon air.
My friend-soul i am told
kissing my footfalls
- - - _ - _--> as i go
:: 04-28-2014 ::
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