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By gillfinn - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Monday, February 8, 2010

In The Quiet Snow fell all about in the quiet. The scarecrow was on a knee, crooked there in the field, as though sinking in a sea of white. A barn stood and sheltered animals. The dark sky breathed only cold upon leaning stalks of brown corn. In the quiet, furrows of crystal formed atop frozen... Sign in to see full entry.

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