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Long Winter Nights Sisters huddle In an upstairs bedroom As voices thick with anger and alcohol Ricochet from the walls below. The oldest, Ever-mothering, Tries vainly to distract As the volume rises. The youngest, Anticipating, knowing what comes next Slides into her sister's lap Where warm hands smooth her hair And still her trembling. The middle child Stares silently out the window At the snow Softly dusting The icy panes of glass, Glistening crystal Against the blackness of the hour. Melting flakes gliding, twisting Down the child's own reflection Like forgotten tears. She longs for summer. |
Additional Notes:
This is my first submission to the Poetic Link, and I am anxious to receive any Feedback.
Thanks in advance!
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