Thursday, November 13, 2014

Winter rhyme


And from the oven, flying, with wings
no longer bent, into the ice, where dreams
were sighing, and flight, the sun
you spent.



2 comments:

Lorraine Renaud said...

I love winter, and I just can't eat animals.....

William Michaelian said...

That I can certainly understand. And yet in terms of human wings, oven with summer still seems to me an apt comparison....