@rmd56120.base.eth
Winter’s Quiet Breath
Winter arrives on silent feet,
With silver frost on every street.
The morning air is sharp and thin,
A gentle chill that crawls within.
Cold winds whisper through the trees,
Dancing softly, slow and free.
The sun feels shy, the sky turns pale,
As frozen hours calmly sail.
Hands seek warmth, hearts draw near,
In winter’s touch, both calm and clear.
For in the cold, we find a fire—
A deeper warmth, a truer desire.
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