A Soft Whisper

Leaves listless in the grayed snow

Gravel peeking from snow clouds

Brown brittle stalks steel themselves

against the October onslaught.

Something green and growing

Huddles beneath the shifting snow

Curling into itself braced

Bent and bowed but resilient.

Cold winds worry the withered ones

Who fold fallen to shelter the unseen green

Curve in against it

Like a mother protecting a child.

Layer upon layer it lusts

For fine and fragile things

Tucked against the terror

The trauma and the tremble.

Winter winnows out

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