Green grass at December’s end…?
Blackened earth declines soft white.
Sunset rebuffs in colors iridescent.
The hardened core stymies shoots.
Wet – amber death lingers by regret…?
Sprouts freeze lacking springs appear.
Ghostly shadows loom a-mid the fog.
Zombies appear for an idle chit chat.
Clanging bones whine whilst they dine.
On a-others blood gone by the grave.
Lifelessness their only claim to fame…?
Disdain the only thing they have to offer.
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