Winter Song

Winter Song short poem

Uploaded by Zara Keid

Old numbers,
lighthouses,
baked bread.

I open my eyes.
nervous and irritable.
Another day with vertigo.

Five shillings
grew lighter and lighter,
the grinning letters,
occupied me,
tender and cool.

Things change their colour,
and die,
The ever-increasing noise,
the floor seemed like a coffin.
The door,
the bed,
a little red rocking-chair,
the muse,
bundled in the corner.

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