Neal Sigmund Poems

Brief December afternoon
Sun reflects on waxing moon
Smoky clouds that quickly form
Bode of swift approaching storm Sudden frisky northern gale
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In April while the barren wood
From winter's silent waiting stood
Where frost of night in morning glistens
The quiet man serenely listens
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In pausing for reflective gaze
Into the looking glass
Precise dimensions thus reversed
In silver foil are cast To see the image that I've loaned
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