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Is it snow?

What is that pilling on the ground?
Is it some sort of illusion?
The cold winter breeze is back from its slumber,
Leaving everyone shivering near a fire,
Children played outside in the streets,
Wishing they could make it to the top of a nearby hill,
They seemed not to care about the cold air,
All they noticed was their breathe,
It was white,
White as a piece of blank paper,
I stood near some trees,
They were broken down into twigs,
No one even understands how it stays up like it does,
But it was like if it stood up for a reason,
What was that reason?
Did the trees shed their leaves to make room for this?
I bend lower to reach a piece,
The only piece that was not close to melting,
I merrily picked some up and glanced,
Only once,
Then twice,
Was it what I thought it was?
Was it that?
Yes it was,

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