overnight branches turned 
white 
putting on 
crystal 
icy sweaters 
frosty miracles of beauty 
in the last days of 
this cruel season of 
relentless shiver 
and now the shining flakes fall 
like small white feathers
in the bright sun of day 
with only the memory 
of temporal perfection 
in this world so marked and pitted
shoulders hunched against the cold
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