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Rated: E · Poetry · None · #775906
A simple, beautiful walk through the woods.
Standing beneath the towering trees,
as snow falls on the barren soil,
she soon notices the once golden leaves
were lost in the wintry toil.

The snow touches her ivory face,
each flake dancing on the crisp, cold breeze.
They land on their final resting place,
as she stands watching, in silent ease.

The snow fills the tracks of past comers,
causing the thin lines to disappear.
The small seeds wait for future summers,
as they sleep in the cold with no fear.

Each branch sways and creaks in the soft wind,
as it blows soft down the path so long.
The branches wait for the gusty end
as they create with the wind their song.

With the snow landing in her soft hair,
she walks quietly to her warm home.
With no one to share the joy with here,
she feels that the world is just her own.
© Copyright 2003 Sandra Farnsworth (crzystyx at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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