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Oct 2018
Smoke drifts through the air,
Sere leaves burnt in a pile.
A chill in the air, but a warm sun.
Stretched out like a cat on the crisp grass
That smoky wind blows by.
How long I’ve waited for you.
My burnt orange heaven.
William D Hearns
Written by
William D Hearns  Florida
(Florida)   
142
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