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Justin S Wampler
Poems
Nov 2022
No snow yet
Slow whistle.
Atonal wind hums
through the naked
boughs of autumn.
Sunny November.
Hats and flannels
color the cityscape
under assumptions
of nearing frigidity.
But the sun still shines
and the wind goes on
humming, just like
it always has before.
Written by
Justin S Wampler
30/M
(30/M)
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577
Aishu
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The Sick Red Carnation
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HOPE
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Emma
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