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morning
shorn of warmth; the earth
of frozen diamonds,
that scintillate
in full moon glow,
a myriad of prisms cold
and beauty hard,
beneath our feet
that crunch along the way,
‘cross silvery green
towards the rising glow
of another dawn.
as we age
washed away my cares
spring showers
opened up my dreams
summer warmth
blood crimson fruits from blossom
autumn cool
virgin white at end
winter ice
nay begin again
cycle on, cycle on
season faster as we age.
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