The whirring world spins and sputters
The machine is alive for another day
My lungs fill with the refreshment
Of the freezing, seizing rain
Coffee warms my throats and head
Fighting off an anxious dread
Dizzying winds make heavy the sodden air
But I’m not in the machine, near as I am to its lair
Photo by freddie marriage on Unsplash
December Rose 
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