COLD by Ross Vassilev

bony trees
and cold air
and the sun
a smoldering
cigarette.

i don’t mind
the cold or
the empty
street.

there’s
comfort in
loneliness

in my white
breath among
dark closed
windows.

i think of
the sun
going down

of the hare
and the
frightened
mouse

of sparrows
chirping on
a quiet ledge.

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2 Responses to “COLD by Ross Vassilev”

  1. alan catlin Says:

    Hey Ross-Good piece. Been trying to send stuff to Opium. Bounced from both addresses listed on the web site. Are you still taking stuff? new address. Is my machine possessed? alan

  2. howie good Says:

    great last stanza, retrospectively raising the level of the entire poem.

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