shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Richard Dinges, Jr.


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Unwritten, dead leaves
gather snow into
drifts, lost souls that
combine into
blue shadows cast
across a world
erased. I sit
behind cold glass
panes, another
drift that gathers
dust into a mound
rounded for a final
descent across
wood floors that creak
when I rise to walk
back into my life.