I will be ready
When the last of the leaves fall
And the migrating birds call.
I will know
As life turns a white sheen
And there be not much green.
I will wander
Like the first snow
Oh, how the wise owl knows.
I learn
And see
And observe the grey skies.
My life is white
For now
Until next time.
this poem is really good. Oh how much I miss the snow!
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