January 24, 2008
January by John UpdikeThe days are short, The sun a spark Hung thin between The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps Track the floor. Milk bottles burst Outside the door. The river is A frozen place Held still beneath The trees of lace. The sky is low. The wind is gray The radiator Purrs all day.You can subscribe to comments on this article using this form.
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