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rose hopkins Nov 2020
First frost
Riming the landscape
A white dawn
Announced by the crow's harsh call
The waning moon hanging
In a cloudless sky
As the rising sun's rays
Twinkle on the frosted fields.
  Oct 2020 rose hopkins
Unpolished Ink
Every thought, every sight,
every book that you've read
Is all packed neatly away in your head!
A big subject in as few words as possible-neat!
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