Come, right with me this poem
`
under six feet
freshly fallen snow
washes into
splintered song
severed thought
drifts afar off
into forever old
souvenirs now cold
write with me this poem
come breathe its soul
lay each clammy hand
to right with me this poem
heart warming chill
voices no longer still
visceral reflection
set in ashen bone
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
Added by Poetry Lover
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