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December Walk
The sun casts morning shadows
over the frost covered ground.
Blackbirds search for breakfast,
but there’s nothing to be found
Yesterday’s watery puddles
are now solid and frozen over.
Warm breath turns to ice-cold
as it shows in frosty vapour.
The bird population of the lake
are in the iced reduced pool.
Many are left to skate on the ice,
but the seagulls still rule.
poem
by
Orlando Belo
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