Spring I think, has been sneaking in
To visit my little grey horse,
Coaxing his long fur out
To play and swirl in the damp air.
It falls driftingly about me
Much like the snow still on the ground,
Clinging to my coat,
Melting into my hair,
Turning me into a frosted lump
Personalized by white;
Aging me suddenly with silver,
Springing upon me
An essence of warmth
As I stand here shivering
With my furry horse.
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