Posted on January 30, 2020 by labeak52
Why does the snow capture me so?
These first flakes, few and far between
Dropping from heaven
Must be a sign
.
Do I dream of lighted hearths
And the return of those
Whose chairs have been empty
Now these many years?
Their boots, just the sizes we remember
Drying on the mat by the door
.
Time stopped
Supper simmering on the stove
And we sing the old songs
The ones we all knew.
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