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Blanketed Earth

Arms barren, the beds in your hold long forgotten since the white blanket fell over your home.


Head held high up in the clouds, you’re one of the first locations to be covered when the sky lets go.


Nestled in your blanket

you rest your tired body

with your feet buried in the earth

and your soul asleep,

waiting for the cold to pass.

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2 Comments


Mary-Elizabeth Grace Meek
Mary-Elizabeth Grace Meek
Feb 18, 2021

I love the poem..it feels like I feel:). Did you write it?

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Jennifer O
Jennifer O
Feb 18, 2021
Replying to

Thank you! Yes, I wrote it a couple of years ago, but felt that it was applicable now :)

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