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WinterWinter is no friend, snow and ice it brings once again! Its raw winds blow, and the icicles grow and grow. The lonley squirrels in the leafless trees have no place to go. They tremble and chatter in the winter cold. Winter’s wrath, all creatures know! Next winter, I’m going to where the tall palm trees grow and old man winter will be someone else’s shovel of snow! Jackie R. kays © 08 - Vote for this poem -
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