We haven’t had any snow this year. I’d rather have this poem.

Graceful Press Poetry

Snow falls in brushstrokes
through the night, muting
trees, streets, rooftops
watercolor blue and white
shadowless lamps in daffodil bloom

(Could I take this stillness
to breath, to heart
not wastefully wishing
for storied forest and a moon

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Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

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