Thursday, November 28, 2024

Rolling Hills

Water vapor forms into low grey clouds
Hung like upside down rolling hills
Forboding in color and unmoveable
In concert with the dropping temperature 
Cold, the kind of near winter frigid damp
That seems to creep into your bones slyly 
Like some kind of cat burglar taking warmth 
You wish for the return of the sun and heat
But it stays away, hidden by dark and cold

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