Midwinter. - Poem by Michael Walker
In June the cold even in the north is disagreeable
there is the shortest day that month to negotiate
no matter the long lonely nights are most agreeable.
In June and July, some of the rivers get flooded,
all of the mountains are clothed in snow,
some of the trees have lost their leaves,
though all the evergreens stay the same,
most of the plants are on a grow-slow,
most of the flowers have lost their petals,
some of the animals are in hibernation:
Some of the people are housebound
while others yet are miserably bedridden
waiting and hoping for the return of spring.
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