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Winter Poem for Small Creatures



Snowing again

white clouds cancel fall

Maple leaves blanket streams

transpired in hopeful event of salmon

Why the squirrel crosses the road

soft walnut in each cheek

only he knows

We are not ready for winter

those spare months the pickup

can’t get over the pass

The seed is stored and quilts are sewn

should we need another in the middle of the night

In the morning we open the door

Look: all those tracks in the snow…

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