The World Through My Window
Through the window there is a white world
Crisp, still and somehow unreal
Deep footprints lead from the back door
To the coal bunker and back again
No traffic on the road to the sandy beach
Just children oblivious to the cold
The robin that enters the house for food
Must now nurture itself plein air
And the blackbird, soloist of the sky choir
With joy gives thanks to all who listen
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