About ‘My drop is frozen ...’ by Bianca Beekmans
Drops
linger
do not stir.
Caught by the cold
stuck close together
they are trapped by the frost.
A glimmer of hope echoes in their eyes.
A wet tear streams down their translucent cheeks,
created by the sunlight, which tries to warm them,
but only makes them long for the thaw even more.
Colors
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