Spring Weathering
As the door's brass knob aches—
Where winter season holders twist;
A new bloom in her child's frame—
Outside in my heart throb away.
Where winter season holders twist,
By the unquieted chime,
Outside in my heart throb away—
Spring is wrested out, by.
By the unquieted chime,
A new bloom in her child's frame;
Spring is wrested out, by—
As the door's brass knob aches.
Copyright © Paige Hind | Year Posted 2024
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