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Winter's End

Rating: 5.0

When muddy footprints
cross the floor
they breathe of magic
held in store
of winter's end.
Warm days descend.
Soft breezes round
the sycamore
to linger at
my kitchen door

and buds unbend.
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Eric Ericson 04 January 2015

I found myself caught up in the rhythm while the rhyme led me on. very nice.

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