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Monday, September 01, 2014

Chained in their Passion







 





Clouds play with the sun;
One second it's sunny bright;
The next second gray.





Always the leaves shake;
Even winter has breezes.
Now, the sun has gone.




 Crows in the gray sky
Call their invisible cries
As rain gets ready.





A bough of leaves
Hangs over the rotting stump,
Lightly pressing down.






Does wind or water
Ripple through the dark woods?
The sounds are mingling.






She's on the wrong side.
Don't these city people know
How to walk on roads?






The Christmas mailbox,
Now framed by creeping ivy
And large rotting leaves.






Two white butterflies
Flittering with each other;
Chained in their passion.

























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