Colors
As Winter bares her crystal claws, which hang like daggers from the eaves, I dress in layered wool because I know her chilling breath deceives with promises. Her silvered cowl envelopes all the world around my neighborhood. Cold winds may howl but they are just an empty sound made by a season on the verge of death. New buds appear on trees and soon they will begin to purge that pallid face. Spring will appease with all the colors God has made and heal our eyes with crowns of jade.
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