Winter
A little heat in the iron radiator,
the dog breathing at the foot of the bed,
and the windows shut tight,
encrusted with hexagons of frost.
I can barely hear the geese
complaining in the vast sky,
flying over the living and the dead,
schools and prisons, and the whitened fields.
This poem has a pretty universal theme, unless you come from a place without winters. I chose this poem because it made me really feel as if I were sitting in front of my fireplace with my dog. It gave you the feeling of warmth, and fuzzy socks, watching Netflix and crocheting. I got a very cozy and serene feeling form this poem, I guess I'm just ready for Winter, with its snow and sweaters.
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