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A Wild Day


It is a wild day,
not a kite flying day.
The savage brutal wind
banishes the leaves,
leaving the naked trees
to huddle close and shiver.

Their colored coats
are scattered,
windblown and tattered.
Becoming quickly covered
underneath the flakes
of the falling snow.

I walk between leafy furrows
where small mice now burrow.
Feel icy winter fingers
brush none too gently
against my bearded face.

Hearth and home are waiting.
Its warmth I am contemplating.
A hot toddy must be
the order of the day.
It will wash away the coldness,
take the sting,
from winters boldness.
Calm my wild racing heart.

I am enchanted and delighted.
My thoughts are enlightened
by the wonder and the might,
of this brewing winter storm.
I do not wish to leave it.
Give in to my need for being warm.

It is a wild day,
not a kite flying day.
How I wish my kite were with me.
I would love to see it sailing high.

As the darkness begins to settle,
I still stay to test my metal
against all that Mother Nature
can ever throw my way.

I turn to hearth and home
I am so glad I took time to roam
and take deep within the flavor,
of this wild winter day.

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