The winter sun is white and blinding
but gives no hint of what it is feeling.
My toes are numb, the cold seeping up
through the leather from the pavement.
Head down against the generous wind,
hands deep in pockets
I think of other days and other places.
but gives no hint of what it is feeling.
My toes are numb, the cold seeping up
through the leather from the pavement.
Head down against the generous wind,
hands deep in pockets
I think of other days and other places.
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