![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKTyD_hajvy1lDdN1EjTHLjeo4m-_kW46np9gM0eKsolm6Zu0g4Upy5b4ppgNtwc7ilWr4n25qnT5mGZU5416NMGsPqxrm2RKQqpl02AiuzL5nmZs6-2kbxiBRg0ZC4C-12UEqYWmiAY/s400/Picture+1.png)
the first winter to
start without you
hangs around at the
bottom of the
stoop, loiters
like a lost
lover, lingers like
the last note of
a new kind of
music, sticks
around like the
final clump of
snow, trails like
a loss for words
.
Yi Ching Lin
Posted over on her site Yi's Bits
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