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Leslie Philibert
Poems
Feb 2020
Frost
All through Saturday morning
(the wrong time to walk)
frost hardened my steps.
I had no chance to call up
the forgiveness lost in endings
but rather followed any direction
like a cautious fox in steps.
The pines around trap ghosts
they gather round this curious accident
of me alone, slow on foot.
Written by
Leslie Philibert
63/M/Germany
(63/M/Germany)
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