“Brushed by Cold”
cji
9/19/12
Still the night air
chill
softly pastels of
breath
tears quickly to ice
ruby red the cheeks
glistening the lights
far away a thought
once when at home
now here so alone
many battles fought
awake so many nights
days extended to
weeks
the air cut with a
knife
brushed by cold death
still the night air
chill!
Copyright © 2012 – cji
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