The First Snowfall

i am greeted in the haziness of the morning with two frozen hands  gripping my feet the penetrating white light of day shakes off the fog of slumber and i realize the icy hands are made of wind swirling in from a window left carelessly open the night before i can feel my face curl …

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A Bit Of Poetry-Walt Whitman

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;                          But O heart! heart! heart!                             O the bleeding drops …

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she is different different from the rest her spirit shines in such a way that puts ours to the test a creature of silence while we never stop talking a collection of paradoxes we can never stop gawking she slowly exists away from all the trouble so everyone else doesn't breach her little bubble -Jacquelyn Routledge