a cold evening, swollen painful
willow buds
migrating birds are
perched in the skeletons
of trees along the shore like great
black blossoms
a small reddish flame
there, far off, trembles in the icy wind
as if alive, near the water
a fire stoked by children
it’s almost warmer, isn’t it,
as we draw near

End of the poem

15 random poems

 

Poetry by subject

Some external links:

The Bat’s Own Poetry Cave 

Talking Writing Monster.

Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US

Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe

Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).

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