Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Wednesday Words - Winter

A little heat in the iron radiator,
the dog breathing at the foot of the bed,

and the windows shut tight,
encrusted with hexagons of frost.

I can barely hear the geese
complaining in the vast sky,

flying over the living and the dead,
schools and prisons, and the whitened fields.

“Winter” by Billy Collins, © 2014 by Billy Collins.

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