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Haiku Christmas

  • May 27, 2016
  • 1 min read

The briny creek flows

not this winter day, for turned

to ice has the stream.

Marsh grass lethargic

Droops to the mirror on which

the sun glints violent.

Crystal hangs from leaves

thin as wisps of angel hair

Weighing nature down.

Cloudless heaven sends

rays through once green filters, now

brown with winter death.


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