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The Battle

By
As I get on the bus
I see the ominous grey clouds gathering
As I get down
The snowplow spreads salt over the roads
In preparation for the battle that is to come
The stage is set

The next day I wake up
There it is falling steadily
Like rank upon rank of soldiers
While one line falls
Another rises to take its place
In endless repetition
Finally the war is won
Glistening white uniforms
Cover everything in sight
The snow is here.





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