She
She whispers to me
the sound of the spring snowmelt
She holds me
in a snow-chain grip
She loves me
I’m pierced by an icicle
I slide unhindered
on black ice beneath me
My Words, My World
First drafts – A few pages in the large wilderness of the world of writing
3 thoughts on “She”
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© Christopher Farley, Chris Farley, 2012-2023. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Christopher Farley with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. All guest content remains the property of the appropriate author – any reproduction is strictly prohibited without their prior written approval.
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