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Feb 2012
Shivering in the wet air,
Grasping to the last of the pink, fragrant
     petals for whatever warmth
     they may provide –
Rain runs over the soft, moistened bark
And falls off in sheets.
The wind tousles outreached branches,
And sighing, it waits
For the sun to bring warmth once more.
Christy Pavoncello
Written by
Christy Pavoncello
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