February

Copyright © 2013 C.L. Mannarino
All rights reserved.

The snow begins to

Thaw,

And soft rain

Trickles

Across barren tree limbs,

Down

To the rich, solid earth

Beneath

Slush piles and patches of

Ice.

Touch my hand in

Old age,

And fade into the

Low rising sun as

The winter of your time

Ends.

I will touch your babe’s

Heart

When the child is

Expelled

From its mothers

Womb.

I will draw your babe’s

Eyes,

The way I drew yours,

And I will hold them

Side

By side, while your

Soul

Lingers at my shoulder,

Then

Stares up at me

From

Between soft, new folds

Of

Skin, your legacy extended

In your grandchildren.



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