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Monday, September 12

last of us

cool september breezes
smells of some season
sunshine casts longer lines
missing time i dont mind
golden black eye aster past
wake aft and softer rides faster ask
the handout duck
the swimming squirrels tails lost puff
the bass and drums circle glacier crumbs
the goose convoy and sleep in arrears
the last midges free to fly
let them in lend them friends
a hat of lunch or something untouched

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