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Wednesday, 5 April 2017


Shivering and frozen,
we cross the smorgered snow
in biting windspill,
running to and fro
to stamp our stinging feet.
We choke on bitter pill
of fire-tease appeasement,
as remote to us
as soaked outsiders  still.
And when we end up
arse over tit, we crack up,
just like the ice will
if we dilly-dally so.
!Homeward go, hard hearts,
with north wind bloodchill

For seeping through nook and cranny
be     Winter's     niagrous      timpani.

                                                             SOL KITENMYNE

                                                                      taken from
                                                                               Winter Sonnet   ( A. Vivaldi)

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