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The Still Small Voice

For Just A Weed

retreat

December 22, 2019

Winter’s Chill

ice on twigs

Crunch of snow beneath our shoes
Cold wind nipping at my nose

Winter’s chill hurries steps
Foggy breath declares the news

Harvesttime past
Summer long gone

As crisp air beckons
Some venture forth

I blink at bright sunlight
Dream of lazy warm days

And retreat like woodland creatures
To my sheltered den

Nature, People, Poetry chill, cold, harvest, life, Nature, retreat, shelter, snow, summer, warm, winter 0 Comments

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