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By John I. Blair

Iíve lost patience with Winter;
I have no time for cold,
Damp, death, dissolution;
I count the days to Solstice.

As for Christmas,
After seven decades
Of tinseled joy and candles
Itís not enough.

I want a shortcut to resurrection Ė
Green sprouts surging up
Beneath the snow,
New leaves defying ice.

Lifeís too short
For me to wait for Spring.

©2011 John I. Blair

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