After it Falls

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death is all around us

scent lost in flowing lace

dusted upon noses

hills rested on one's face


shivers stumble down my spine

and chatter up my teeth

forcefully stuttered through frozen lips

longing for heat's warm reach


no longer are the young

forming fog upon the glass

slowly drawing lazy circles

waiting for storms to pass


so now we must be careful

slowly treading through the snow

muzzles tilted towards the sky

trotting into unknown



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