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a fragile heart

In broad strokes of the scythe

hopes are falling,

bundled not for future use

but put to blaze in fiery heart ache.

 

Fields now fallow

await the winter’s rain

and freeze as hard as smooth

calm lakes.

 

Encased in icy brittle

shatter, melt, refreeze,

to break again – again – again

in this unending winter.

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