while the sun is held ransom at sea
snow falls in the Hamlet of Laurel
misty ice-covered trees...naked
for all to see
in the pumpkin patch...dead roots
from a season gone by
off the water, the moon reflects a winter's shine
and in the distance...
morning waits on the line
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Morning On The Line
Posted by Bob at 5:42 PM
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