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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Snowfall on the Window

The snow is falling
on the house.
At the window
I trace another house,
a face
smiling at the snow.
Children running
through the cascade
of the surf
and disappearing.
Where do they go?
On the window
snowflakes disappear,
my fingers dry inside.
Then,
what falls inside me,
eyes closed?

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