The Calls of A Sunny Winter
Laughing through the calls of a sunny winter:
The sun is leaping like a pony, rambunctiously stealing away
From any gods that it ever knew
In its young life, while last night I saw the brown reservoirs
Of your body sleeping underneath the Christmas tree,
And underneath the television;
And laughing, as it held a child on the couch of the Mexican
Household- so freely as if it was ours.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Added by Poetry Lover
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