she comes down

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She Comes Down


“They’re those little wispy bits we get before she comes down”
Michael told the telephone in a voice too dry from the waiting.

Like frozen shards off the edge of some mighty shattered sword
the advance droplets shrieked silently through our cheeks
by the time we reached the garden.

Annabelle was in her dressing gown in the roses
as we picked and packed petals for my soap.

Between gasps, the lowering sky gulped vacuums of still deep grey,
Leaving silence, as if it might snow.


Philip White












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