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Winter Poem MAG
November 2, 2016
Soft snow falls fleetingly from sleepy sky.
When it finally reaches the ground,
it covers everything, allowing nothing to grow.
Timid trees are bare,
Icicles hanging from frail, broken, branches.
© James T., Phoenix, AZ
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Favorite Quote:
"The autumn leaves are a riot of color. They remind us of the good, colorful things, and their crunch beneath our shoes also bids adieu to all bad things that have long gone,"