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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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