Snowy Dawn

Posted: February 14, 2014 in POETRY 2013 -

A crisp crunching sound,
Like rustling paper coming from below .
There’s a cold chill in the air,
Which feels as if you’re stood in a fridge.

A soft, cold blanket covers the landscape,
As though it’s a sheet on a newly made bed .
Covering the new morning view white,
Like it’s an artists blank canvas.

©2014 A. Dougherty

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