Face It
turn it over
re-read
a new leaf
sense
the situation
before you
before
going on
ahead
in a
dance
impulse upon
impulse
* * * * *
Morning Air
Cool brisk
Bitter cold
Hands
Followed me
Down to
The vale by
The crooked lake.
Chilly air
And iced
Dew as
We tangled
Across the fields
And through a
Gully
To the creek. Cold
Skies and
A gray moon
* * * * *
~ Jean Aldriedge is a new contributer.
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