Softly lands with a sigh.
Gently covers all in white,
and it makes a lovely sight.
Slowly the real world fades away,
covered all in Hulda's way.
Stitched in silver, lies her quilt.
Muffling sound, producing a quietude,
a serene, mysterious solitude,
here in this world, she has built.
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We have snow, here, on the east foothills.
And, yeah, I know, this is a daylight photo.
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