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autumn poetry

now while my lips are living
the ships are lying in the bay
the sun is up
a look is but a ray
there is no escape by the river
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
the old west, the old time
thoughts through my head
all my love for my sweet
but alas, just dreams
the old songs
you are beautiful and faded
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes

 



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