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Jul 2013
Birds rush and are busy
Breaking the days, laden
Twigs have broken, landed,
White clouds sail in breeze,
Sun has spilt, over gleamed
Gold on crest fallen, blue mountain,
Leaves lay with browned, under
Grown green matted grasses—
Whispers of spring.
Seán Mac Falls
Written by
Seán Mac Falls  Éire
(Éire)   
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