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Oct 2020
The silence
hovers
above the pines
and empty branches.

The sky
is enveloped
in a sweeping grey.
It mirrors the fields;
mulled brown tips above the white snow.

Trees
are paused mid wind,
branches gnarled and twisted,
a line of white crawls up the trunk,
their bones showing in the cold.

A breath
travels across the field
and out
like ripples.

The silence,
         lingers
Written by
Yaoyan  F/North America
(F/North America)   
235
     JKirin, Yaoyan and MS Anjaan
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