A great poetry winter ever 🙏🙏🌧
Because the winter wind teters on the steel rope bridge,
Shall a blind man walk straighter in its shadows?
Shall a white cane and tin cup lodged in his palms suffer
The emptiness of a dark room?
The snow sniffs, pours on the tip of his tongue for a thirst,
It clouts his spittle like a broken life;
The sightless beggar alone in the twigs of his
Eyes, two burning embers
Smoldering, licking his life through a deadly accident,
Plucked by an explosion,
Forever, as his tongue breaks its
Rounds at the end like a wagged root.
Because he stands alone, one story out of a
His frozen wife’s juices drift like a fixed
Secretly in statuary,
Shall he, planted in the cold and desolate street,
Turn to stare at an old year
Toppling down in the muddle of glass
Like the mauled…
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