Oh, light that flickers,
do so in warmth
for open window hinders
with draft coming forth.
Such an ominous glow
about this vacant abode
full of rueing-morose
for this flame untrod.
Oh, to kindle desire
or asphyxiate;
am I to perspire
or a heart, break?
Thoughts in smoke,
timid to forgo,
I might've choked—
oh, open window.
— Samuel Richard Leonard
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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