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Dec 2015
The wind smells of
frozen milk and carbolic,
this is the edge of December;

a slopping out of leaves
and burnt wood, the overspew
of ovens that keeps

us holding out coats at the throat.
The winter is still out,
we wait for the last bus of snow.
If you like my work it can be found in magazines in the US and UK, and
on better internet sites.
Written by
Leslie Philibert  63/M/Germany
(63/M/Germany)   
269
   Sjr1000 and Lizley
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