Still small voices

i. Spider Under the snow lie blankets thick and woolen. Sleep, little spider, snug in leaves of mullein. The hearth is cold. Winter has closed the damper. A flannel rosette's your deep dry bedchamber. April opens the flue, fires the kindling. That's the day when longest night is ending. ii. Peeper So little sleigh, so lovely bell, it rides this way yet hides so well by light of day you cannot tell just where in May its song will go since no things stay in place below while sun makes hay of melted snow. iii. Cricket Sleighbells in August strike the listening night. The month is summer but the music's white. The air is warmish; chill the frosty sound. Snow will be silent when it strokes the ground.

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