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Winter crept,

through the whispering wood,

hushing fir and oak;

crushed each leaf and froze each web -

but never a word he spoke.

Winter prowled

by the shivering sea,

lifting sand and stone;

nipped at each limpet silently -

and then moved on.

Winter raced

down the frozen stream,

catching at his breath;

on his lips were icicles,

at his back was death.

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12y ago

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