DecemberA Poem by Shannon
A splash across dew-worn blades,
A breeze through each poniard. Both chilling and refreshing, But slicing just as hard. Cuts through flakes of iron, Chilly bursts from ember, Dainty lattice work destroyed, Done by each December. © 2011 Shannon |
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Added on December 29, 2011 Last Updated on December 29, 2011 |