Winter Cold
Winter Cold.
I was going for a walk
when I saw an ice front coming down the lane
I let go of the dog on lead.
Ran home and burnt old poetry books
to keep the cold at bay.
Sagacity went up in flames keeping me warm.
Cold ashes and regrets.
And the dog, with its thick fur and disinterest
in reading, survived in the hollow of an old oak.
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