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Jan 2021
Rolling landscape
beneath soft quiet stillness waits,
as still, petite flakes
waft upon the breath of winter.

It’s bitter air
bites at my cheeks and nose,
sharply, waking me
to a day washed clean in white.

Reverently embracing
the solitude of morning light,
I revel in the crispness
of fresh new winter hope.
Poem copy written by Vicki Kralapp 1/31/2021
Vicki Kralapp
Written by
Vicki Kralapp  Oshkosh
(Oshkosh)   
132
 
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