Set the door ajar and

Let the cold rush in.

We rise with a snap to

Hear the bulrush din.


Leaves are a-shiver

And the red sky be-quivers

The flight of the raging

Blue birds.


Raindrops rattle

As natures a-prattle.

The wind smothers us close

With its giggle.


Paperweights we,

Slowed to crawling glee;

This is peace and

I’m a little fan of thee.



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