Rime

Rime.jpg

Day 4: Peace Poetry Postcard Month

It was worth the pause.
Ice ruffled leaves,
delicate flakes layered
across wrought iron bloomery,
dappled berries,
icicled needles of pine.

Morning after warmth
where softness and pleasure
rested in cradled peace,
cold descended.

In this time of rime and
hoarfrost, do not allow
yourself a hardening.
Keep the fire of peace
within, and without
will melt by your fervor.

 

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