Snow
       

The man acted badly, by all accounts,
but I like him.

It keeps snowing
even though we pour salt.

If I stifle my sympathies
they grow into bitter balls of string
I can't shake out of my hand.

And if I let my animals out
they make the trails I walk.

It is snowing, i have string
and animals in my heart.

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Copyright © 2015 Nellie Bridge All rights reserved
from Pleiades
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission