the inhibiting chill
Hinting lightly at sort of
the imminent spring's thrill
Filing away at the freezing
unforgiving night's milieu,
Trials of this gentle thing
Toughness in nature endures.
Signals are many thus
As I swipe through dates
Sitting, making a fuss
ranting at my fate.
There's a better morrow
When I shall be able to smile
Today, I clutch at sorrow
And bow down to the vile.
Prompt: Sunday Whirl
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