Within the cold heart of winter lies flecks of warmth, Tiny pumps of life powering limbs through the storm. Beasts of life's burden trudge towards the north, The cold wind and the snow obscure their form.
Within the cold heart of winter lies flecks of warmth,
Tiny pumps of life powering limbs through the storm.
Beasts of life's burden trudge towards the north,
The cold wind and the snow obscure their form.

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masterrep
masterrepCommunity member
Autoplay OFF  •  3 months ago
I love watching bison in nature documentaries so I wrote a poem

Within the cold heart of winter lies flecks of warmth, Tiny pumps of life powering limbs through the storm. Beasts of life's burden trudge towards the north, The cold wind and the snow obscure their form.

With only their wits and bulk they navigate with no sun, Their tracks covered and and their breath shown in mist. A snort puffed is quickly lost as the woolen Bison, Strong though they are, few are left to exist.

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