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Winter Solstice

 
To the winter days at the cabin that inspired the poet within me
 
Cold morning breaks
The soft snow bright
And all is still
Silent
Waiting for an unspoken motion
To start the day
Sun hesitating
Torn between sleep and wake
As distant clouds
Hold onto last vestiges of night
Hanging to win the timeless battle
And it is a draw
As clouds of white take the sky
The sun leaping over the cusp
Hidden
And the world exhales
A deep sigh
The winter breathes once more
 
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Elise Quackenbush More than 1 year ago
This poem was writen approximately eight years ago...and I haven't changed a word. I love winter in cabins with no television, right on the river!
Poetry.com 3.7 out of 5 based on 3 votes.
Philip Miles More than 1 year ago
Let more inspire you to write others
yvonne sensing More than 1 year ago
really nice imagery keep sharing
yvonne sensing More than 1 year ago
4 star
Erica Clark More than 1 year ago
I like the words you use.
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