L.T. Garvin

The snow cascades from

Puffy gray clouds

Shrouding over

The softly spun ice

Drifting out ceaselessly

These quiet frozen streets

Become big and furry

Wapping massive snow catching paws

Around the four corners of the house

Smacking its chops

Upon the minutes

The deep-set eyes resting

On the view of a chilly eve

Its muzzle

Inhales the whole of winter

Fresh from napping

Now awake and hunting

Ready to pounce

Upon a row

Of frozen icicles

That are hanging out

In rigid frost duty

Polar bear winter


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