If winter were a person
he'd be contemptuous and cross,
like a man who isn't feeling well
and doesn't give a toss!
Consider winter as a song,
cacophonous and cruel -
like a volatile music score
lacking discipline and rule.
Think of winter as a colour,
clearly phosphorus yet dark -
like a messy, unwashed palette
non defining in it's mark.
What of winter as a nutrient,
acrid, jellified and cold -
like a vegetarian ice cream
unpalatable, but bold.
But winter is a season
unique in every way -
a captivating thumb print
of the Master on display.
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