March 25, 2018
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The curtain shields
The window’s yields
Of snow and grass
Growing in increasing mass
A white-bronze curtain with brown
Designs; that drop down
It often blows playfully
Despite the wind slapping hatefully
With its forced, eerie blows
Either low or high sounding
As the sky darkens, so does the curtain
Darkening the atmosphere; for certain
The atmosphere outside
Stretching wide
Enough to cover
The entire house
Parting and lifting; that’s what curtains do
Guided by human hands; they never flew

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