Winter Moth
A deranged sky, late November
Raindrops glisten the limbs of trees
Snow, the impossible dream
Archives of winter under my skin.
Let's stay in tonight
Lay back the quilt, olives
A glass of cold beer
Let old leaves tell the story
They know the truth
What ripens late, what
A hurdle the change
From brown to white
What a hurdle the change
From brown to white, wingless
Warm winter, a newly-splendored thing.
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