It's just poetry, it won't bite


06.17.14 Posted in today's words by

Bill Webb’s most recent poem to appear here was Trees (May 2014).

By Bill Webb

Next year I’ll recollect
How this year blew in
On biting cold, unceasing snow.
Shoulder snuggled up to shoulder
The couch our igloo
The Mexican blanket our snow cover.
We watched football from warm distant sites
Our champagne, chilled outside in snow drifts
Sparkled in our glasses.
How beautiful the snow
When there’s no where else
We’d rather go.


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