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The cauliflower yellow leaves that blow in the wind whisper the song of summer, an untenured call to the wild, the secret of the young, the beauty of the petals. Gleaming in the silver of the red sun, a swan opened its fish-like lips, but its siblings did not wander into the white mist; did not heed its call, for they were asleep. Fast, fast asleep under the dark brown earth.

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