Serpents converge on a word.

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Serpents converge on a word.
            The seasons crash down the year’s
 bumpety months.
  Let's to the New Year
            in blue ribbons and gold
                        leaving November's Styrofoam day
                                    to steam in its dull hand.
 
This wind can't move our shadows.
 
Gather by the bells then
            and muscle up words
                        like struggle and hope.
 
Love to Amy from James.
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