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Night's Folly
Grey steel sky cast cold against white winter clouds.
Last yellow of evening fades against the shades of night's cruel shroud.
Trees stand stark against week old snow.
Patches of forgotten fall no longer in the night will grow.
The damp deepening chill on natures hushed face
The morrow's sun will all but erase.
The morning will come though frosty and bleak
And the hoar of the night no more white ruin will reek.
so beautiful so beautiful