Winter Sun… #Poetry

Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie

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Winter sun

Wet autumn leaves stick to my window

Pale winter sun bleaching

the red and gold through to my workspace

trying to touch the pages I work on

like the eager fingers of a small child

wanting to play before the snow comes.

Placing my hand in the pale streak of light

I am bathed in red and gold

My hand now belongs to an ancient God

Would that I could write with the same power

Not like a fallen angel…


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