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ode to the grandfather

your winter time draws near as the

perfectly circular moon

spills its perfect circle of light

deeply defined concentric roundness

and note the shadows in his eyes

glimmering white lights and don't go near

destruction lies in children's hands

perfection comes with age and paper

wrapped with wood or brass and

mounted on the wall

did you hear your children call?

then the colors come alive

and your perfect circles are perfectly nothing

perfectly lost

as girls giggle and turn away

and your perfect concentric

 

i built a snowman in your honor

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a
Written by
andrea-bush
Published
Sep 26, 2010
Lines·Words
17·92
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