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Low Winter Son

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I kick away the leaves
uncover the carved stones
And reading your names again
I let those feelings flood in

The two of you rest together
laid deep beneath the earth
There’s a tree that grows above you
and here’s me, treading my own winter

Life was in wealth, awhile
but I’ve been chasing that warmth 
for three decades now
I’m tired and my body aches

There will be fireworks tonight
the painted white buildings
will echo with the light
I echo with your light

But I’m tired and my body aches
The snow will soon be here
and my footprints
will disappear…



◄ An Eyelash Breadth Between Us

For Whom ►


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Sun 26th Nov 2023 11:50

Thank you Leon, Holden and Stephen. I'm so pleased you think this works.

Thanks also to Nigel, Frederick, Hugh, K Lynn, Hélène, Tim and Carlton for the likes and for taking the time to read it.

<Deleted User> (35565)

Fri 24th Nov 2023 19:04

10/10 !! and then some! melancholia at its best-well done sir!

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Stephen Gospage

Fri 24th Nov 2023 16:31

An almost unbearably moving poem, Tom. I liked it very much.

Holden Moncrieff

Fri 24th Nov 2023 02:37

A melancholy that resonates, eloquently captured, Tom! I particularly loved the lines
"There's a tree that grows above you
and here's me, treading my own winter" 🌷

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