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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Emotional >> ID #1519011 |
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" Winters Past " It's standing wild and so free, the goldenrod in front of me. The winter snows have come so fast to end this beauty that I see. For of the longest winters past that cut the night with icy blast. And with the freshly fallen snow we knew the weather could not last. The wild seeds that sleep below wait patiently but thawing's slow, and all the things that grow in green are waiting for the spring to show. There lay the furrows bare and clean, so many winters past they've seen of season's long and cold and mean; of season's long and cold and mean.
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