Jim Taylor's Columns - 'Soft Edges' and 'Sharp Edges'

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Nov

2020

Seven by seven

This poem started with an unusually early snowfall. I’ll tell you the rest of the story after you read the poem.

Snow falls softly on cedars;

fat white flakes sift down, pile up;

branches bend, protest in pain;

white cones burden bunched berries;

autumn grass falls flat below

an ermine cloak; drifting specks

draw a veil across distance.

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Categories: Poetry