Snow
The time has come to start a season,
To heal a mad-dash Autumn's lesions.
The sun-spent earth resists the flakes
Insistent notes like music makes
The thirsty ground a pillowcase.
Sharp winds elicit needed sighs
As inch by inch the Autumn dies--
Replaced by comfort mountains high.
The sleeping earth will gather strength
As nature waits for Springtime's pranks.
Copyright © Benjamin Mitchell | Year Posted 2010
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