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Burrowing Time

This is the season that we make bunk bed caves and forts and snow houses every day.  We suspend blankets over our heads and let the light of a tiny flashlight make the whole thing glow.  There is one at the foot of the stairs, another one behind the couch, one between two mattresses.  We feel this urge to create new structures to cocoon us until we can knock them all down in spring with our wings.
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