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A Midwinter Sonnet

The man who called midwinter “bleak”: remember
However far the Sun may flee away
And leave us, scrambling, blind, in dark December:
There never was a darkness without day.
The winter, and the night, were made for sleep
And God forbid I should disrupt that plan.
The cold; the snow; they draw me to the deep
And open-eyed accounting of a man.
This longest night; this term of hope delayed,
This deep midwinter solstice, leaves me weak
But still, I’ll face the darkness unafraid
For nothing hides the truth that I now speak:
We live; we grow; we die; we have no fear
That solstice’s darkness brings the spring more near.

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