Monday, 17 February 2014

Everything of the year.

This town is less for their absence.

They are over an ocean away.

And will not return before the spring.

I did not realise that I would miss them so.

But i knew that i would she.

For this house is less for her absence.

No lark song here either.

Just an empty cold room.

The door remaining closed.

And then everything,

And everywhere,

Everywhere and everything

Is less for yours.

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