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Feb 2018
They don’t see us dancing in the snow,
too busy with their own footholds
to worry about what ours are doing.
I shelter you beneath my wing
when the harsh blizzards whip up
ice crystals like shards of glass,
your head rested against my warm body,
a ball of heat in the coldest of storms.

Angels in the white wilderness,
a pair of ptarmigans finding love
in the harshest of conditions.
We sing for the joy of life
out in the open where everyone is blind.
No one else shares this moment,
it is our own in the beautiful wild.
Michael J Simpson
Written by
Michael J Simpson  31/M/Aberdeen, Scotland
(31/M/Aberdeen, Scotland)   
171
   Elizabeth J
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