Of Winter

Where does the river go
when snow, blinding
claims the flow?

Houses nestled in wooded groves
shudder at the exposure of leafless days
brace against the chills of early eves.

How quickly we rejoice
at first thaw, eager to embrace
change – emotion often premature.

(For Lens-artists Photo Challenge: Winter)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

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