Winter's Coming Kiss
A-rush
In a feather ruffling frenzy
cooling the flamboyant sunrise
muffling the warblers
with waffling winds
chilling the audience
in an ice-like stare
your shivery essence
ricochets through the canyon
startles the cliffs
bellows amid the echoes
of yesteryears challenge
stirs a red dust devil
they call you cold, December
for they are frail
and cannot bear the sting
of Winter’s hoary kiss
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