John Thorkild Ellison
Inside the embers glow in the grate
While the garden quietly suffocates in snow.
The ice is melting!
The snow forgets what the birds remember,
A living root dispels December!
The heat disfigures the soil.
The sun glares angrily
Till the clouds sweat tears.
Summer is over,
The moon strips the trees of leaves
And paints their bark with silver starlight.
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