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Between the Seasons
White May Blossoms
quake their blushing bells.
Agnostic winds roam,
whisking through,
a chill and pensive sky.
Spring may well appear,
yet today once more,
winter has resurrected itself,
with a sly cold wink.
Daffodils spectate,
wait and shiver,
on the sidelines.
Small dogs sniff the nippy shoes,
of brisk walkers,
then hurry onward -
their tell-tale tails
halfway up
and halfway down.
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
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