Breath on Windowpanes
Before I got there
it was gone
All the words that
went with every feeling of my heart
Pain
not acute enough to notice
except when accompanied by the will to
give in
Give up
my pursuit of happiness
in the way that turns colors to
chalk beneath December rain
And breath on windowpanes
into wishes
that will not fade until
the coming of spring
© Copyright 2015 Bill Friday
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