BUSYBODY
The snow is falling like nobody’s business—
So why am I writing about it?
It pirouettes beyond control,
Insistently whispering against my window pane:
Why don’t you just
leave well enough alone?
Why can’t you just let
snow be snow?
ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL DAY He read her diary after she passed on, Her name recorded in the Book of Life, And started writing where s...
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