Poetry
Sometimes short and sweet that tugs at the heart or the funny-bone; other times wistful and sad, like life itself.
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Words like the butterfly, fragile and soft
with skins of velvet, the color of dawn
or like the sky, beguilingly bright,
making earth reach out in joyful anticipation.
Long before the first robin appears,
the yellow-green tips on the willows
curtsy toward the mighty oak
that crackles in frozen response.
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