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fall poem

the hypocritic days
shadows lay along broadway
they may talk of love in a cottage
some one complained to the master
did you ever see an alligator
into the silent land
i saw the first pear
skies they were ashen and sober
beside a stricken field
desolate and lone
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
i am dying
with her hair flaying wildly
there was never a sound beside the wood but one

 



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