First Frost

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Winter came last night
her cold
silver fingers stole
across grass and last red berries
gathering in Spring’s children.

She sent
through clinging leaves
and silently
took sleeping creatures
into her embrace.

At dawn
his light caught every
icy shard
sparkling brilliant
steam rising
melting frost dripping
from dark trees.

He sang to Her
of the unending promise
of morning.

(Jani Franck November 2014)


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