Monday, February 28, 2011

Poem Number 1133

Image from Flickr

The Snow that never drifts - 
The transient, fragrant snow
That comes a single time of Year
Is softly driving now - 

So thorough in the Tree
At night beneath the star
That it was February's Foot
Experience would swear - 

Like Winter as a Face
We stern and former knew
Repaired of all but Loneliness
By Nature's Alibi - 

Were every storm so spice
The Value could not be - 
We buy with contrast - Pang is good
As near as memory - 

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