Open Poetry #23 |
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The Eeriness of All Hallow's Eve |
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VAS Member Rara Avis
since 2000-11-16
Posts 7450Oregon |
Someone bought a Frigidaire of giant-sized proportion it’s captured up the universe and conjured up a potion. The frost is on the pumpkin there’s no doubt about it, yet there shall be no snowfall for the sky is all sunlit. It’s looking like a hot summer’s day but the ‘hot’ has found escape; and icy rooftops, puddles, too, span the adjacent landscape. More evidence today that what one sees is not always true the look of warm outside the panes has found its truth in freezing you. For the furnace is at work it toils heavily but the warm that it conjures up has not found its way to me. I think that I should come away from this window on the world, and curl up in my blanket that’s been neatly, tightly furled. Now I just thought I saw a moth of an iridescent butterfly pass horizontally past my patio nearby. It could not have been a leaf, for a breeze does not blow, so what on earth could it have been pretending summer in its tow? ©October 31, 2002 Whether on the shoal or on the shore, |
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© Copyright 2002 Virginia Salter - All Rights Reserved | |||
the_loner_23 Member Ascendant
since 2002-06-08
Posts 5479Jacksonville, Florida, USA |
Hauntingly good write. ![]() Cold hands means a warm heart |
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