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Jan 2020
He was the aura of autumn
With a beard of falling leaves
He was guarded from the cold
With his long orange sleeves

He was the aura of autumn
With a brisk walk into battle
He was alone in the cafe
I heard the doorbell rattle

He was the aura of autumn
With a hand on his case,
Coffee in the other
And fogged glasses on his face.
11/7/19
Written by
Liz
559
   Carlo C Gomez and Mark S
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