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Aug 2016
After the storm on Thursday
a breeze swirled around bare legs
whispered promises and flew under skirts
as summer gathered the dregs

of humid, spent, sticky nights
and realized it was time to go.
She didn’t bother with goodbye,
slipping south without a show

Only the geese resolved
to win her back, honking wistfully,
and set their course toward the siren
of fading memories
Written by
ljl sunshine
255
 
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