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It Lies

07 Apr
no wintry night beats
and rattles my windowpane
like Marley's ghost

the freezing gusts, too, are a farce,
so is the unlawful snow

the Spring is just concealed
a bit short of here;
I know
buds begin swelling
though carpeted with ice
to delay

 

 

 

 

 



© Brian Hodgkinson Jr. (aka) Limericist 2021

 
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Posted by on April 7, 2021 in Poetry

 

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