A Poem on the Website of
the Red Dirt Writers Society

by Gordon Eskridge (Jan 2012)

Icicle hanging from the roof so tight
Do you hold on with all your might?
Did you form so long over night?
How did you gain such height?
Why are you shaped so round?
It is so far to the ground.
Aren’t you afraid you might fall down?
In the sun light you look so clear.
You look like glass when I am near.
When you melt away I will shed a tear.

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Revised January 2012.