Poem -
his hands....
will you miss winter he asked
and I remember him this way
sometimes melancholy, ancient
an old soul and so tasked...
with both sweeping the snow
that life's shoots might rise new
whilst struggling to watch
the old snow melting through...
his hands
M P 16/1/22
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Comments
A very sweet write that oozes with sentimentality. Fabulous x
Really appreciated Tina my friend xx