This has been a draft for a year now.. :-/

A spring's dream
to push back the cold
envelope that shrouds
the ragged man. his rags
don't hold
the slivers of heat.
Burning paper
in the drum. Shivering
against the gates
to a warm day, sunny
and bright. A fresh
paint brush stroke,
a canvas in a rich man's
home. Spring will clean
the air of damp lethargy -
a task of feat,
when winter clings
like a rascal kid.
Spring will cajole
life to step out.
Birthed from the womb,
A winter later.

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