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A winter's death is not unexpected snow falls softly, blanketing another friend Too soon but unending white muffles my cry I kick at the drifts, trying to clear a path to summer but there's always more My hands freeze as I grope for the familiar edge there shake out the lumps of ice and bark and drag it away Up here the town is a postcard Christmas lights, curling smoke and too bright stars I lay myself down breathe in pain and launch myself into the dark too fast too brief I roll to a stop rise, like a snowman and walk back up the hill
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