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Feb 2018
The snow has let go of the leaves
it held mached with ice beside
the western stairs of my back porch
like-half forgotten valentines

it tried to mail before the sun
cooked the corpse of our Christmas tree,
releasing all those mint-sapped scents
like the presents I forgot you gave me.
Tom Conley
Written by
Tom Conley
  380
   --- and Pradip Chattopadhyay
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