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About This Poem
hunting in january
January
White of sky
like the surface
of a frozen lake
mirroring the snow
covered lands,
shadowless,
as orange weaves
in and out of trees
the color of dark
cutting into the thin
stillness of winter air.
Each footprint covered,
Again.
Next day, light
brims at the horizon
and splashes yellow gold
upon deep maroon,
brown seeped into the barren trails
of this vanilla earth.
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