Saturday, January 23, 2016

This House

Who built this house?
I think they knew me.
Perched on the lip of a lake
Broad windows and glassed doors so
I can see the grand parade
Of gray waves
And indomitable ducks
Dipping and diving
Sheltered in their feathered forms
Riders on the winter storm
An existence I can only
Dare to dream
As I pull the covers tight...
Yet another day
In this long winter’s night.
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