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May 2016
The leaves tumble down,
A thread hangs from the trunk,
Each leaf tied by unseen hand,
Locked in frozen fall,
They call them tears,
But they cling on instead of drop,
A whisper on the water,
Ripples pink in sunset's warmth,
Across the almost still, dark water,
Reflections warped,
Silent breath,
Watch the colour fade.
Parsavagely Kompenere
Written by
Parsavagely Kompenere  19/F/Yorkshire
(19/F/Yorkshire)   
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