Kiss Me Again, Jack
So many years
since I felt the hoar
caress my cheek
with needle teeth.
Not breaking the skin
but bringing it to rude life . . .
Kiss me again, Jack.
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This entry was posted on March 15, 2016 by Will in Poem, poem of the day, Poetry, Will Vigar and tagged cold, environment, hoar, jack frost, lament, missing, poems, Poetry, rude, Will Vigar, winter, writing.Shortlink
https://wp.me/p7hxIP-76Archives
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