Raised on black & white,
I’m normally no forgiver.
Besides, she’s a road walked,
a dead-end, a looking glass sliver.
To add emphasis to this,
I stand to deliver,
and just when I think there’s
nothing else I can give her–
I watch her shiver.
Artwork: ‘Your Voice’ by Joanne Nam
Tonight, Merril is the host at the d’Verse Poets Pub-Quadrille #144 Shivering. Craft a poem of 44 words exactly that uses some variation of the word “shiver.” Brrr. It’s dreadfully cold here. Hope you’ll join us.





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