Tuesday, September 11, 2012

First Winter

What is it?
So smooth and cool
to the touch.
You say it is dirty.
Yet when I feel it,
my hands do not soil.
You say it is slippery.
I did not understand,
until I fell on my bum.
All because I had never seen
this... ice.

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Shanghai Interlude

I write like
Margaret Atwood

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!