Oct 30
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The view

The winter blankets the lone mountain covering it in snow,

As I trudge down this abandoned hillside I know it is worth the price below,

Ice crunches under my boots

I hear the owls hoots

This was the time animals went to roam,

A squirrel darted out of its hidden home,

The bitter wind whistled through the ripped trees

My teeth chattered like buzzing bees

But in the end a good view was worth it all.
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