Exceptional Minute Poem Blind Man's Bluff by kiwisteveh Minute contest entry

He sees the seasons rise and fall; absorbs them all. Cool autumn's breath - that little death. He tastes with icy fingertips when winter grips, and smells rebirth in sweet spring earth. Through summer's searing heat he hears our joys, our tears. Immensely wise, he needs no eyes.   Recognized

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