Poetry Corner

After an Adirondack Snowstorm,
by Jim Farfaglia

The world is black and white again;

uncomplicated…

even a mountain range of fir trees

softly darkens

and every branch, bush and boulder

gently hold

a million  flakes, so quietly balanced,

like life here

where a telephone wire’s sole purpose

is to guide me

on the pathway of my peaceful heart.

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