when muddled, go back to the basics

a sigh wistful
and soft dabs night
with whisper that trickles
from the compartment
for coats and sweaters,
in this case, the old sweater,
trying to sleep the centuries
until frosts
will come to court
pine and rose but can’t really sleep – stuffy
nights composing the compartment
for coats and an old sweater;
well what can one do except
scribble a few quick snow poems

About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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