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poem: winter into spring

winter into spring —
under dimming auroras,
early ice blossoms

. . .

Tiny blooms peek through the snow
As winter’s wrath begins to wane.
The shortened days’ pace quickens briskly
And ice-locked streams grow, swell, and break.

For all the long night, ghost lights writhed,
But now the young sun masks them, heedless.
The earth below stirs from deep slumber
And leaps to live and love anew.

Whither now the waning winter?
Who shall mourn in grief for thee?
Patient, then, for three long seasons
I must endure till your return.

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