Friday, December 21, 2012

Peace, Joy, Love and Poetry for Every Teen!

Every morning I congratulate
the icicles on their severity.
I think they have courage, backbone,
their hard hearts will never give way.

Then around ten or half past,
hearing the steady falling of drops of water
I look up at the eaves. I see
the enactment of the same old winter story
-the icicles weeping away their inborn tears,
and if they only knew it, their identity.

The Icicles
By Janet Frame


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