cold winter muse
mist swirling with wind's bluster
walking alone
broken heart shrouded
tear streams washed by weeping rain
--
whistling
my ears embrace, endure
offkey tonals
distraction meant for dogs
not men
--
after all this time
I dream within the contours
of a heart set free
holy imagination
redeemed holistically
27 February 2007 by Glen Alan Woods
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