The Winter Tree

The oak’s limbs are frostbitten. Icy moonlight dances between them and a glistening mosaic pirouette commences. Its aching branches sparkling terribly as the willow watches from afar, weeping.

Written by

Ergo, the Ogre

The oak’s limbs are frostbitten.

Icy moonlight dances between them and a glistening mosaic pirouette commences.

Its aching branches sparkling terribly as the

willow watches from afar,

weeping.

Courtesy of mylot.com

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