Thursday, November 1, 2012

Short and Horrible

What have I told you of dropping at eaves
Were you not sworn not to listen?
Folk shouldn't hark
to things after dark
Now you just lie there, and glisten.

Didn't I bid you to button your coat?
Fog in the hollows is pooling.
People who turn
wish they'd never learned
Love, you are rapidly cooling.

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