The trees are all dying
The flowers have gone.
Golden leaves are lying
The winter has come.
Icy patterns on the window
Pixie faces on the glass.
Dead things in the garden
Lost tracks in the grass.
Dark gloom at the dawning
You hear a muffled sound.
Cold and white is the morning
Crystals formed on the ground.
Sharp and crisp is the air
White drifts all around.
The world is in mystery
Softness deadens the sound…
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