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Nov 2013
Grey woods, morning mist
hangs upon the trees, leaves decay, sway
falling to the ground

Quiet - this world, but the sound of rain
washing wet the berry vines, droplets
falling to the ground

Sparrows flit among sheltered branches,
nest's to repair, twine and twigs
falling to the ground
CA Guilfoyle
Written by
CA Guilfoyle  F/Tucson, AZ
(F/Tucson, AZ)   
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