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farewell to winter

Writer's picture: t.noblet.noble


snow.


felt like a minor chord
on a cold cheek,

melting with the baritone voice of a cello.


the trees whisper to me,

promising the last snowfall.

a scorched earth barely accepts

the flakes.


can you hear the song of growth

underneath
this frozen land?

an orchestra, a joyful
etude from below,


permeating the heart with warmth,

and the promise of spring.


between the end of all,

and beginning of everything.


these crystals are the saddest violins,


fading to applause and dimming lights.

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Trish Noble

Writer, Artist, Dreamer.

I design, write, and generally have fun

experimenting and creating things.

Even if I suck at it.

I am a Jungian enthusiast and avid dreamer.

I have four cats.  They all think I'm crazy.

© Trisha Noble - all rights reserved.

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