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Winter's Shroud

The dirty skeleton of March 
Wears a coat of shredded hope of winter's passing
And drags its feet through wind, rain and blackened snow
In ditches and across fields of stunted grain,
Swirling forgotten leaves of November
Still lying in dead and forgotten flower beds
Blowing away traces and thoughts of a gentle April for now,
But not forever..

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things