my hands are perpetually cold
and the only thing warming them
is the trust inside your eyes;
this is easier than anyone thought it would be.02/05/2009Posted on 02/05/2009Copyright © 2016 Ava Blu
Posted on 02/05/2009Copyright © 2016 Ava Blu
I really like that last line.
This poem transported me to the Canadian wilderness - before our continent was fully colonized - a log cabin - frontiers people - Indians still rulers - that's a mighty powerful piece of work - and quite beautiful ....