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fall poetry

the snow whispers about me
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness
which i wish to remark
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
all down the years
to come so soon to this imagined dark
grieve not for the invisible
glooms of the live-oaks
in the dark and peace of my final bed
doubtless i remember still
musing, between the sunset and the dark
along a river-side
gone before us
i stood by the open casement

 



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