bright and yellow, glinting over the horizon,
making the snow glare. Each step, brings the crunch,
crunch of ice beneath my feet. Winter
is a reprieve. We stand side-by-side,
watching our breath curl, smoky, into the air, listening
the whisk, whisk, whisk of the saw,
the rich scent of sap perfuming
as the tree collapses in a spray evergreen needles.
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