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17.2.10

To Winter (poem)

I woke to stacks of light imprinted on window blinds
softly swaying,
and to the wheels and wood of Sammy's skateboard
slamming the street.

"Spring, Spring," I said,
"I wish you were here."

The moon sank slowly behind black fingers of trees.

But Winter, Winter,
stay until I sleep.

2 comments:

Mary Madelynn said...

Those "S"es are swell Seligman.

Josh Seligman said...

I'm flattered that you fancy them, Flaig.