with the first snowfall the sounds of the city are quietly subdued
in fresh snow we see the paths that people follow: mostly the same one
a simple gesture from long ago has become a fond ritual
even in chaos it is possible to find some kind of order
as decoration a simple item achieves a greater meaning
ideas survive only if their foundation is built to survive
a cold hard surface comes alive like a wild fire it’s smoke and mirrors
the artist creates because they want to; maybe there’s an audience
a dark winter night reveals a beauty that no summer day can match
adding another seat at the table does not remove an old one
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