
The boots are jumbled
together by the door.
Shovel's leaning lightly,
on the other side.
February, just won't die.
Blizzards crash through again
and again. It's time for
the snow to go. Retreat.
Melt, Good Lord...just go!
This poster appeared in my feed just when my friend was complaining that she didn't understand why God, who controls everything, couldn...
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