Ice Out
Winter is fleeing, it can't handle the surge of warm weather.
The logs are reappearing.
The edge of seasons are everywhere.
The ice is tinkling and dripping.
The cattails are bursting.
The air is filled with cotton.
And the sound of boots being sucked into the mud.
The logs are reappearing.
The edge of seasons are everywhere.
The ice is tinkling and dripping.
The cattails are bursting.
The air is filled with cotton.
And the sound of boots being sucked into the mud.
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