As if pinched tight at all corners,
The light still tried to escape here,
Into this world of disillusionment and dark.
All that came out was a dry rasp,
The crackled crinkling of yellow paper,
Thinly disguised spruce bark.

11/12/2009

Author's Note: Tried to capture the impression of sharp but thin winter sunlight.

Posted on 11/13/2009
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