Each trunk,
Each branch,
Each twig,
So carefully
traced
In sugary white.
Frosted
limbs sparkling
In the
noonlight
Like
crystalline lace
Draped upon
the forest’s dark
Until the
sun’s kiss
Shall melt
the iced shards
And finally
quench
Silva’s
winter thirst.
agd
1.26.2015
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