Brunswick

Brunswick
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Sunday, March 8, 2015

Spring flowers

A language for romance;
an anthropic mistrust of
all that breathes.

The snow makes me curse
but it's melting is too sudden.
All this change.

I am not waiting

Tonight when I
think your name as I fall asleep,
it is not to call you to me.

It's just to hear the sound
and taste my need;
the measure of it. How it lessens
with each day. 

1 comment:

  1. Nice. There's a lot of emotion packed into this one.
    The last stanza is a strong twist on that emotional overload.
    And "All this change"-- with the period, followed by "I am not waiting [open ended, no punctuation]" is great. Thanks, Ms Dubois.

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