SHIPS OF FEELINGS
Several of my poems froze last night.
Some of the words
are as white as snow this morning.
The commas carry backpacks of frost.
The somber, ice-coated words
aren’t fit for standing in lines.
How insignificant they seem
as they sit like lumps of ice
on my desk, how distressing,
my once proud poems
with ships of feelings
frozen inside them.
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