The Cold Seasons in the Cycle
Josie, Age 12, New Zealand

Now it's windy, and rather cold,
The leaves are creased and wrinkly,
Are soldiers of old
The days are longer,
Light is less,
The wind is stronger,
Making my hair a mess.

Fog and rain, play with the snow,
Our tree is a bride, dressed in the lace of frost,
The streets are slippery,
They can't be crossed.

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