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Thursday, January 16, 2014

Touch of a White Brush




 
Stark whiteness returns;
Lawn and porch and wood railings
Frosted like a cake.
 
 
 

My little bird house
Sits like a picture postcard
Waiting for Santa.



Beaten down at last
Proud Pompous vanquished by snow;
Their Spring shine is gone.



Touch of a white brush
And the stumps become old men--
Overnight magic!


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