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As I Wane

Beneath your feet in passing

Crueled divorce of rains

Further and stilled

Ripened ends of grain

My losing face, gaunt in blame

Oh the tired rise against the same

'till the autumns seventh

I shall retrieve no pains

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k

Written by

kevin-8

44 / M / california

Published: Jan 27
LinesWords: 838

Notes: For the new moth in the fauna
Tags: #meterhunts #coldbrewpoetry

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