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Dec 2018
Brown and brittle and shrunken,
and having slipped through the tines,
or escaped the blower’s roar,
they tumble across the hard earth
carried by the December wind
to settle beneath the boxwoods
and then lay quiet under winter’s blanket
with the hope to see another spring.
Philip Lawrence
Written by
Philip Lawrence  New York
(New York)   
       JL Smith, oniemiały and Pradip Chattopadhyay
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