Mardi Gras slips by
unnoticed in the cold
gray of a northern
February, somber Wednesday
you see ashes on
somebody’s forehead,
you flash “oh”,
think about fish for
lunch, and
from ashes you came
and to ashes you shall return
40 days in the cold
the light,
somewhere
2 comments:
Thanks to Josh for editing advice.
Nice re-write, Bill.
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