I wasn't aware when death threw her silky snare and neither did I try to…
That February – a poem
December has gone, long ago,
and I am alone
once more
because you have turned
your eyes
from me once again.
January passed
like a feeble man
on death bed passes away
sans noise and movement.
And February is here, my love.
You are there.
I am here. And sadly,
We are nowhere!
for M
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