Magic

I let go a breath of hot air on your fall-scaped window and wrote my name with my index finger. Now, when it gets colder and frost graces the panes, you’ll see that I’m still here. And I hope, I can only hope, that it will make you smile.

M.

Poetry

Mandy Joy Poole View All →

Writer and photographer from remote Labrador, Canada. Just another cold Labradorian chillin' in the Big Land. Can most likely be found walking my dog Grace or behind an iMac screen slowly taking over the interwebs.

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