in the brightest of sunlit days,
before the first snow;
we must let some things lie,
so that others may grow.
wild flora... in clover and vine;
blooming bushes that baffle to flower,
in what seems for some -
but is not, our darkest hour.
to our surprise some things gone never pass.
they are resting in waiting and come spring eternal-
return from same root, then rise above, a new body amass.
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