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Oct 2018
The sky to the west lights up with saffron, laced in  pink, The last rays of sunshine reflect gold  off the dry crops.
Shadows Chase the night, the moon enters the stage, A sky  Cosmic Colbert
The crickets play their strings, bullfrogs sing.
Sparrows dance among Wheat tassels swaying to and throw like a lost humming bird in the evening breeze.
And the wind whispers your name with a lonesome sigh.
With a teardrop in your eye you bid summer daydreaming Goodbye,
With bitterness you welcome winter with all its lies.
And the wind whispers a lonesome sigh.
Who are we to say it's wrong?
David boyer
Written by
David boyer  41/M/Lyons pa
(41/M/Lyons pa)   
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