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The Death Of Winter
The death of winter when
The cold is blown away
By soft spring breezes
That have come to say
"Be gone, be gone.
You've stilled the world too long.
I am here now
And I bring the birds and song.
I bring fragrant blossoms
to fill the air.
I shall repair the tree limbs
that are too bare.
And you will wrestle with drabness
and finally sleep.
And all of your icicles
will lose their weep."
Oh what glorious days
now that I am here.
Oh what magnificent colors
will now appear.
Give me the chance to warm the earth.
Give me my time to sigh
and exhale the sweetness
of spring,
before it's my time to die
poem
by
Edwina Reizer
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