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The northern blast sweeps down,
surrounds me in its ice-cold wind
filling the abandon of darker days
as I cross the old town of Hamburg
Coldness reappears in musty leaves
that carpet my way down to the
waterside, a sanctuary where I
recount the minutes of the year
I keep the thought of longer days
when hopes run high and life turns
on its stem that rises from
the ground in a touch of eternity
copyright 2007
Steve
Ceniceros |
