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fall poetry

rose and amber was the sunset on the river
in mournful numbers
and with the humming bird
storm
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
what was it the engines said
i go my way complacently
though i am little as all little things
we who stood
who loves the rain
little gate was reached at last
i loathed you
the sun is up
you are my companion

 



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