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Wednesday, June 12, 2013

april thoughts

the trees have blossoms of snow.
the seedlings sleep deeply
pale and cold
even as their southern neighbors
grow thick and dark.
there are storms
of ice
and wind
that throw up collars
and shutter doors,
pull on thick socks,
and fill cups
again
with thick hot liquid.
the blossoms stand against the ashy sky
turning gray in the early sunset
wishing and hoping
for their own demise.

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