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Apr 2018
The key slides in,
The tumblers are thrown,
The **** twists,
The hinges glide,

The coat thrown aside,
The hat as well.
The carpet is tread,
The shoes wiped,

The kettle put on,
The blanket grabbed,
The radio plays
a favorite song.

The window looked through,
The ground covered in snow,
in April, no less;
but the birds are new!
morseismyjam
Written by
morseismyjam  Genderqueer/Right Here
(Genderqueer/Right Here)   
  384
   A Lofi Cherry
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