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Katie Woods's avatar

This poem though. Isn’t it just perfect for a sunny February day. How can a poem of so few words conjure so much? And isn’t that the absolute thrill of poetry ✨

On A Train

The book I’ve been reading

rests on my knee. You sleep.

It’s beautiful out there -

fields, little lakes and winter trees

in February sunlight,

every car park a shining mosaic.

Long radiant minutes,

your hand in my hand,

still warm, still warm.

Wendy Cope

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Jodi Beamish's avatar

Beginning

I’m finding words

like breadcrumbs dropped on a path

left for me to find

leading me

to a place barely imagined

even as it is longed for

I’m finding words

like feathers scattered in the wind

they float around me

tickling my mind

JoBe

This is my feeling about being here.

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