She died when I was twelve
and I still miss her house
with a VHS copy of Cinderella too precious to shelve
She died when I was twelve
and I know it's best not to dwell
on a past you can't renounce but
She died when I was twelve
and I still miss her house
You are a student of a language, warping butter-like words on your tongue.
winter
traditional
candles on the table
Advent is here in flame and fire
It's warm.
winter
transitional
Christmas films on cable
Advent light now frames the foyer
It's warm.
Free verse poetry
overtakes the English tongue
beautiful but sad
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