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January
 
Something about January
broods my blood to slush.
A new year's unknowns
hearkens hope to hush.

It's a dark visage that stuns
heritage of Januarys past.
Death claims my loved ones
with winter's harshest blast.

It seems the eye of irony
to hear 'Happy New Year!'
Yet one must toast the hope
that a wish can fight a fear.

But I suspect--am quite sure
the Reaper will summon me
on an ice-enameled night
in the cold heart of January.

By poetryaa3

© 2018 poetryaa3 (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The JUST FOR THE LOVE OF IT Challenge-read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The JUST FOR THE LOVE OF IT Challenge-read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The JUST FOR THE LOVE OF IT Challenge-read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The JUST FOR THE LOVE OF IT Challenge-read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


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