Winter Quiet

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Winter Quiet

Limb to limb, mouth to mouth

with the bleached grass

silver mist lies upon the back yards

among the outhouses.

The dwarf trees

pirouette awkwardly to it⁠—

whirling round on one toe;

the big tree smiles and glances

upward!

Tense with suppressed excitement

the fences watch where the ground

has humped an aching shoulder for

the ecstasy.