Frosty Letters

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Frosty Letters

Frost edges every blade of grass;

Freezes it into a fairyland of white,

But the oak is only beginning to drop her sculpted leaves

Drop them like handwritten letters from spring,

When they first popped from buds and began growing,

When they loaded the tree with leathery green;

From summer when they shaded the children playing,

When a circle of orange day lilies circled the trunk,

From autumn when the leaves flew like flags,

When we first noticed them begin to turn brown,

When they rattled and fluttered and shook in the wind.

Frost trims each missive in fragile lace

Each has a message to deliver to winter

An epistle of seasons and hope, change and promise.

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