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Sep 2014
The winds of loneliness
              blow through my soul.
                     Like the cold swirling winds of autumn
              blowing through a grove of trees.
Stripping away all the leaves
              from its branches
                     and leaving in its wake
              only the bare skeletal remains
to wait, once again,
              for the warmth of spring.
                     As do I await the return of Love.

                 Mkt
Michael K Thompson
Written by
Michael K Thompson  Louisiana
(Louisiana)   
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