Winter’s Discontented
An early winter has descended
without warning,
bringing a constellation of icicles,
chilling and pointed,
that offer a crystalline pilgrimage
through the unforgiving night air
and point me toward the North Star.
(Winter's Discontented continues here)
without warning,
bringing a constellation of icicles,
chilling and pointed,
that offer a crystalline pilgrimage
through the unforgiving night air
and point me toward the North Star.
(Winter's Discontented continues here)
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