The Breath of Winter
The world is dark and gray.
The trees are no longer cloaked in their leafy finery.
Overnight a mantle of ice has settled upon their shoulders.
What is left of the once gay carpet that graced the forest floor is frozen,
The rest having withered away long ago.
The air is cold,
Cold,
Cold.
Winter has breathed its icy breath,
And the earth sleeps and dreams of spring.
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