August 2, 2013
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Wistful breezes in
the season of perfection
Copper heart leaves
swirl happily, around
red scarf and brown curls
A crisp blue sky smiles
and a V flies by, honking
Black capped mischief
remains for the darker days
devoted to frosty Dawn Chorus
Rocks have white
sheets by morning
while grass is gold.
Rotting wood scent
intoxicating chemistry
cleans the air
One bench is empty
I’ll be awhile.

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