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FRIDAY THE 13TH


Frost on the glass
Creates patterns that blast
Away fears from the day.

Peeking through Jack Frost’s
Gifts given in the night
Seeing land so clean and bright.

It’s quiet because people
Move carefully, clearly
Fearing a misstep.

Their fear makes them polite.
Superstition takes them to
New heights.

By Cassandrar  Oleande

About poetreecreations

I am an author writer publisher web administrator I run poetry workshops in the community. My published Manners childrens poetry book can be found at www.waterstones.com

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