Friday, December 21, 2012

The End Of The World

I hunch and wait for the bus.
The city is cold and full of bluster.
Our first real snow.
The flakes dart and buzz.
I've worn the wrong coat
and bury my hands deep
in my pockets.

The evening is deep and sharp.
I don't think the world will end.
Today or any other.
But if it does
the day was full
and the night vibrant.

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