A race
towards stunning numbness,
throughout the sleet of limestone and
marble-white,
throws itself willy-nilly into abandoned streets
where the breath of carriage wheels
has
just so recently taunted trees
quite frankly out of season...
Incongruous goslings chase the
fluffy
snow, mingling with famished ponds
reflecting a lifetime of
mirrored ambitions
and
rustic fence-posts...
These
are placid times,
Floored
as a silent snowflake adopts a stark position,
Unyielding to the heavy clouds that bluster above...
All embrace the solstice
written by L.P.-G.
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