Monday, December 24, 2012

For Mother, In December's Shanghai

It must be cold, mother.
The long passageway of memories;
The distance of my arm from your
Shoulders. The years' furrows
Frozen on the plain of your
Face; only your smile remains
Closely warm.

- 22 Dec 12

P.S.: Wrote this with a couple of others the other day at the library.

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