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fall poetry

skies they were ashen and sober
be not angry with me
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
are you alive?
a storm is riding on the tide
you are my companion
he'd even have his joke
why then, must we see?
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
see i give myself to you
there's one that i once loved so much
a look is but a ray

 



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