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Monday, February 8, 2021

A SNOW DAY IN MICHIGAN

The cold blowing air puts an ache in all my teeth,
If my frostbite lasts much longer, I'll earn an R.I.P. wreath,
The cold, howling winds sing a song,
I think a dirge; I hope I'm wrong,
Is my grave a snow drift that I'll soon be underneath?  








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