Winter’s Banquet

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The poets would have us equate winter’s harshness with aging and death, a time of reconciliation and submission.
But winter attests nothing and teaches nothing, while the grave first seizes lost memories then feeds upon our mortal wounds. We are conceited patrons of both, and willing sellers besides.
But tonight we tarry at winter’s banquet as tomorrow soon enough arrives.
Peace
Copyright 2018
Image Credit: Pixabay
 

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