Squirrels dart through woods,
rain erases snow and ice,
wet breakfast revealed.
Dear Mother Nature,
January rain feels hot.
Each drop scalds my face.
When snow melts too soon
your heavy blanket falls off,
you are still frozen.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Winter, not winter
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1 comment:
I especially like the last one - you can sense a real weight from that snow you've described.
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