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When students only have read a few poems, in exclusively academic contexts, they often approach poetry with what the li...

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

February

It was your hatred for February that first endeared you to me, old friend

What you called its impertinent brevity, its indecisiveness and squalor

Though the heart of winter, it lacked all conviction



Now it is February again and I wonder if you were speaking in earnest

Perhaps there was something else under your skin that you couldn't openly confess

Something colder even than the biting wind of that month you despised


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