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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #2327395
Acrostic poem about wishing for a warm spell before winter strikes.
Each morning
As the sun breaks over the
Rolling hills, I
Look across the woody ridges
Yearning for a warm respite.

Fingers cold, I
Reach the summit, and
Once again blue dawn
Shadows speak their cold, hard
Truth: Time for winter once again.
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