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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1623511
Sad winter poem
    A Winter Death

Young Imogen
Kneels before
The white-leaf window,
Clutching tight
Her cold-wet scarf.

On Boxing Day,
She had eagerly wrapped
The warm wool round her neck.

Now,
Through icy panes,
She watches,
With heavy heart,
A raised patch
Of disappearing white.


© Copyright 2009 David Ransom (davidransom at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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