SNOWFALL By Jack Beeching

Snowfall, extravagant in its caress,
puts a white clench on every twig and bud,
leopard to linger along sinking branches,
frozen white fur to crenellate the mud.

Spring rituals of plough and secateur
had just begun, the day that Charlotte painted
blossom to look like snow. Her hand felt cold.
Time took a turn. That night, the snow decanted.

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About Author Annette J Dunlea Irish Writer

Irish Writer Website: http://ajdunlea.webs.com/ Twitter: @adunlea Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/annettejdunleairishauthor
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