A gentle, soft eve
flakes falling ever so slowly
dancing in moonlight
surrounding The Pond
The Pond, well worn
around one edge
from the paws of creatures
seeking respite of their thirst.
Thirst, for nourishment
in the dead landscape
of barren Winters’
frozen earth needing warmth.
Warmth, bundled and safe
from the bitter North wind
blowing unforgiving
causing life to seek shelter.
Shelter, peace with oneself
gazing out through frosted glass
while the snow flakes
dance in moonlight.
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