The Harsh Unjudgemental Winter
This is a poem about what trees look like in the fall and the winter.
Dead, barren trees
Leaves still clinging to their limb
Thin stick like branches with different
Shades of brown hues.
The wind takes its cue
Gently rustling through thin-tipped branches
Leaves still crisp as they lay on the ground
Grass beaten down by weather and
Snow.
The gentle rustling of breeze
Frozen face, feet
The wind is not judgmental
Hitting each with its harsh clap
Nor is the steady fluffiness of
Oddly shaped snowflakes falling
Steadily on the damp ground
Giggles break the tranquil scenery
As individuals walk the beaten path.
Leaves still clinging to their limb
Thin stick like branches with different
Shades of brown hues.
The wind takes its cue
Gently rustling through thin-tipped branches
Leaves still crisp as they lay on the ground
Grass beaten down by weather and
Snow.
The gentle rustling of breeze
Frozen face, feet
The wind is not judgmental
Hitting each with its harsh clap
Nor is the steady fluffiness of
Oddly shaped snowflakes falling
Steadily on the damp ground
Giggles break the tranquil scenery
As individuals walk the beaten path.
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