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| Tangerine snow waltzes Fourty feet from my nose. Flecks moisten my lips in greeting To their third cousins beneath the streetlamp at which I loosely gaze. Wind chimes and chilled childhood romances Breathe within me as if they were recent. A decent thought I dare say These soft flakes of yesterday Make for a secret warning No amount of mourning could attempt to create. The grit between the curbs, it radiates, Causing its new blanket to give in To damp concrete infrastructered thoroughways. It leaks upwards through and between my toes, Cooling this urgent need to hit the hay. All in favour of hearing one more breeze Keep the tempo between the trees And me. |
| "Tepid Streets" November Fourth 2005 - 02:20 |