November 13, 2020 Tom Atkins Poem: Laughing at Winter Laughing at Winter The rain has turned November cold. The grass browns. Most of the trees are stripped bare, winter come early. And yet, there are always the hangers on, bright remindersthat joy never diescompletely. Share this: Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Click to print (Opens in new window) Print Like Loading...