Grandmother
always
Takes snow
from plum boughs
For her best
tea
Birds sing merrily
Like in spring, but too early
And drop from the bough
The fallow sun
Through the busy street
Golden reflections
Brother’s birthday
Winter storm stops
For a moment
As night progresses
The window front loses
Light by light
So much for winter
Premature primavera
And snowdrops ringing
.
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