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Tears in December The calm snow soft memories melting on my lashes, while the fall of night stars drape the sky of wishes. Before me, flakes pirouette, flutter and drop. Frost engraves ice patterns on the pane; once, his fingers would melt against the glass and trace my name. Stars shine past horizon’s lip, winds weave in hushed night. Alone in winter’s wrap of amethyst, my cheeks wash with memory’s tears. On the tree, garland glints, my eyes are mirrored in silver balls, moments of him linger. His echo whispers; December. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Robin Ann Crandell On Date: 2008-02-17 23:52:39
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
I really like this poem. It makes me feel as if I miss him too.
"my eyes are mirrored in silver balls,
moments of him linger."
It makes me daydream.. like I am watching a movie and someone looks into a crystal ball and they see their past. Instead, you see him. You remember him. You feel him.
Wow.. great poem. I love it.