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On a chill morning (Free verse) by razorgrin

A stranger is standing in the driveway, clouded in plumes of frozen breath Last night's frost creeps into his old bones to numb his hands and feet, yet he still stands, the morning's feeble rays breaking on his face. His eyes are upcast toward my curtained window, rapt. A fascinated gaze broken by my leaving the house, rounding the corner. I level my eyes on his, a basilisk stare and a wordless conversation ending as I drive off toward the rising sun.

Christof 17-Oct-02/4:03 AM
What is this mad pedantry about cars/brooms whatever? Who cares? This poem would go on forever if there was a description of every single detail and by the end of it the reader would want to baste himself in his own tears of frustration and rage. Leave it as it is Razorgrin!




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