Weather

Well , we may now note something,
The deep russet hues of train bridge
As these  old men walk in umbrellas
Followed by passing snowed cedars.
They are weathered equal to bridge.

Old men wear weathered eyebrows.
They have now streaks of lightning.
They are all -weather coats tatters,
Paltry things in pots of fine weather,
Wearing weathered undying crown.

They are no more afraid of mirrors,
After mirrors have mist in the faces.
Mirrors are equal to  lovely weather.
Sparrows in them are in a fine fettle.
Selfie images no more interest them.

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