the reddest of
fro, on tow
& snowshoes
as still, if
only once
o’erstocking,
a cold man
to a green,
as tingling
to sub-limbs,
so wanting
wood, I know
a pink slip
dozens fit
Poetry
the reddest of
fro, on tow
& snowshoes
as still, if
only once
o’erstocking,
a cold man
to a green,
as tingling
to sub-limbs,
so wanting
wood, I know
a pink slip
dozens fit