Hi there Matt,
This is a lovely poem and I enjoyed it very much. Almost melancholy, but
not quite. I've made a couple of suggestions below:
Snow [falls] in the night, as they warned it might,
and we wake to it white[-]over. Since one [o'clock]
she has [been clinging] to every breath, and slowly
this green world slips beneath its shroud.
The traffic, the town, the sounds of this life
[are] stilled and spent. My father [cries,] baffled,
from the garden below the half-open window.
Only her pain, and our terror, loud.
Later, the headline in the evening paper:
It's January, it's cold and it's snowing,
so what's all the fuss?
But still it surprises us.
~*~
Thanks for letting me toy with your poem. Cheerwell, Mary :O)
=====
Good Cheer & Be Well,
Maryann Hazen Stearns
"Under The Limbo Stick" http://www.geocities.com/Faerhart/
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