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Michael H. Levin: Poems and Prose
SNOWDROPS
(February)
Who’d think
these slender stems
could pierce gunmetal snow
presenting arms through gusts
that polarize the hollows of my bones
yet here
they rise -- demure
white caps, pure offerings
of spring: extended by
a netherworld whose darker invites
bide their time below.
The Raven's Perch (April 12, 2021); reprinted in But Does It Rhyme (Aug. 2021)
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