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Monday, February 03, 2014

Alien Terrain

Darkness in morning;
Snow is scattered on the lawn;
Cars go speeding past.




Trees are motionless
As they wait for the dark clouds
To unload their gifts.




A few flakes falling,
Soundlessly join companions;
Soon, the multitudes.



Distant plaintive cry
Of a solitary bird
Cuts through the snow flakes.

Faded, ripped, roadside,
Melting into gray snow bank--
A Christmas greeting.



The road becomes white,
Painted with feathery swirls
By the rushing cars.



Elusive snow flakes
Swifter than the camera's eye
Descend in silence.




With beetle bright eyes,
Two cars are slowly creeping--
Alien terrain.












































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