- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Winter's Course
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Withered limbs reach
toward grey skies
once bountiful trees
grieving for their fallen leaves
My breath tells me
of temperature's decline
A bitter wind
rakes its sharp nails across my skin
Everywhere is quiet and still
deep within a wintry grasp
Even the sun knows its hold cannot last
greys swiftly turn to black
Even the ground seeks shelter
flowers shrivel and grass becomes stiff and brittle
As the earth draws in every bit of warmth
such is life in winter's course
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