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Jun 2022
The butterflies flight
comes through fields of leaves.
A damp fizzle dampens the throat.
The air is aimless
and full of dust.
The grass swathes amongst the thickets.
The stiff trees murmurs memory
once galloping antelopes on the hoof
clandestine in the lonely morning air.
Antony Glaser
Written by
Antony Glaser  60/M/croydon
(60/M/croydon)   
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