Crystalized trees etched upon the sky
Gently painted with pastel colors
A hue of pink, a touch of blue
The winter sky at evening time
Reflects confidence in the dawn
The return of light, return of warmth
Spring but a whisper just behind
----------------------------
Chasm and canyon
Carved into the land
Epic face of time
A space of creation
And slow change
Formation of rock
Rivers cutting through
Indentations
Swelling of earth
Gentle, rolling slopes
Gaping, edged depression
Opening new worlds
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The ground pokes through
The snow, defiantly
Dark spots of brown
And some frozen green
Just small reminders
That winter won’t last
Spring’s barely distant
But for this crusty cover
A white mantle so still
It’s only here briefly
Arriving just in time
To stay a bit and leave
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Pink petals passing
Scents above so high
Painted porcelain perfection
Blossoms caress the sky
Swaying silent shroud
Suitors strolling by
Pink petals passing
Lover's gentle sigh
Pastel hues falling
Slow fluttering grace
Pink petals passing
Lining streams in lace
Pink petals passing
Smoothest transit by
Soft essence floating
In most subtle lullaby
Inducing springtime slumber
Upon a satin shore
Sailing with the current
Pink petals pass before
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Frozen jaws snap at timeless air
And concrete eyes stare at passers-by
Claws deeply imbedded, sadly not in flesh
As you crouch forever ready to pounce
Fountains of water spew forth clutching nothing
And fall to the littered streets below
Your shaggy mane flows from ancient stone
And waves motionless in the wind
Your presence is an anachronistic monument
A forgotten testament to superstition and fear
Your usefulness never intended or conferred
Yet you maintain importance in simply existing
Rooftops stand empty in your absence
Decoration alone you somehow are not
Instead you are as integral as the foundation
Which weathers the years and upholds aging walls
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We have been here before
I cannot remember when
But the paint is still red
Perhaps not as shiny as
(When we were here)
Before
No popcorn is on the ground
Birds have stolen it all away
But I don't know why
I even noticed it missing
Anyway
A forgotten sign faded and decrepit
Leans against a rusty pole
"Pony ride - 50 cen - "
A victim of many angry storms
Perhaps
The grass is still dead and flat
Where the bandstand once stood
Yet the banners have all fallen down
Over the fancy frozen ponies that dance as
(When we were here)
Before
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