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by Mary Jo Balistreri

Praise the sun of late December
adorning bare trees
sequins of afterglow
willows anchored in ice,
arms bent to shelter
geese   small finches
Praise bronzed oaks 
in wind-waving splendor
shadows on a white-washed world
flakes of new snow
in falling silence
peace on the pond
Praise Jack’s frosted windows
dreamscapes of children
and finger art fantasies
aged trees that burn
on our hearths
kindling cold hearts
Praise the solstice
that candles the dark
this shortest day
new beginning.


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