held

hanging…

3 Responses to “held”

  1. the first winter to
    start without you
    hangs around at the
    bottom of the
    stoop, loiters
    like a lost
    lover, lingers like
    the last note of
    a new kind of
    music, sticks
    around like the
    final clump of
    snow, trails like
    a loss for words
    .
    20110210:2156
    y

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