With His Cold Fingers
snow caresses like a lover
the trees and meadows
and every single thing
with his cold fingers
he strokes and kisses
gently placing
a white blanket
whispering
now, go to sleep . . .
_______________
March 15, 2023
Poetry/Free Verse/with his cold fingers
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1531-626-15
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere Contest, A Brian Strand Premiere, No 1198
sponsor, Brian Stand, Judged 03/15/2023
Tenth Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2023
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