Deciding Embers Vol.4, 12.1.23 “Mr. Winter”
Winter is an unrelenting foe For all its frigid, rigid blows It must begin, as all things thought With outlying changes, blued in hue but red in nose This year, like the last, and the one before that See no snow, see no show, or any spectacle thus I went out to chat Mr. Winter, “Where are you at?” Not a word nor a whisper, but blows a cool breeze Silence, perchance like a dream “Mr. Winter, we’re waiting, for some wonderland, please” Let it begin, with a flurry or two, blurry lines like the bank of a stream How can you be bested, by Summer or Spring? Your ice-frost-crystal crown, struck from your brow Mr. Winter give me icicles and flakes that cling Spread light when the sun will not allow Oh, heinous foe, you wintered weary turnabout Turned tail and ran, fearful of the abandoned valley hills Can you not climb? Ascend and crash into the drought Let it begin, like the stroke of many quills With thunder, rain upon rain, so great in testament That the crystal lit prairies brim with more than sentiment
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