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Oct 2018
I know when it's about to snow.
The sunny sky changes its colors,
The farmers suddenly cease to plow
As birds go flying over the borders.

I know because of sudden ice storms,
Wind and plummeting temperature.
Atop the mountain,crystal snow forms
Turning it into a Christmas picture.

I know when it's about to snow.
I see the anticipation of human,
As they await winter and its show.
I feel the wind blowing like giant fan.

I know because I start to miss the sun
And crave the warm African beaches.
I miss the sand, salty air, and real fun,
And all the smiles on people's faces.

© IB-Poetry
26/10/2018
I hate winter by the way.
Ivan Brooks Sr
Written by
Ivan Brooks Sr  50/M/Norway
(50/M/Norway)   
202
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