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A Winter Morning

I awake to the muffled sound of snow
One thin frame betwixt warm and chill,
The smell of soft blankets beckoning dreams
As animate static holds the world still.

{ 1 } Comments

  1. Thomas | January 15, 2008 at 10:51 pm | Permalink

    Dear–

    Your Washingtonian upbringing is showing. In any New England abode worth its salt, the windows are double-paned!

    Yours in Picking Nits,

    Thomas

    (who liked it anyway)

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