white as snow

tracking the shadow of the bird
to know the hearts desire
is all the people heard
in s.o.s. through the wire
with out being a liar
the white ground - smoking
is an ah to see
and i’m not joking
i’d tried to turn the key
Joan of Arc and me
pernilla misty rose likes the snow
but is the first one back in
fearing the big black crow
is not a sin
so let’s begin
becoming apart of the cascading slopes
frozen in time,  in it’s own little space
watching the leaping antelopes
as life’s battle is a race
and can fit in one case
blowing, piling high, as drifts do
can be pretty if you say so
makes one weary while shoveling too
hurting back while bending low
because we have to go

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