Quiet Snow

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A summer plum in the falling whispers of quiet snow,
I was ripe and round in your suppleness – your wise hands.
Your eyes were the dreaming grey sky, your face the river raining.
Did you take me in your sleep? In this hush of Winter
when only birds like angels heard the sound?

Maria Costello – December 29, 2009

2 Comments
  1. Andrew Sacks says

    Fine work–as usual–Maria!

    1. Maria Costello says

      Thank you so much, Andrew!

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