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The late afternoon sun Whose heat dusk Would soon to absorb Sifted through the window Exposing particles of dust Lightly strewn On the glistening cement floor Of the passageway It must have been September Daisied grass beneath my feet Ladybird crawling Along my fingertip A fleet of autumnal birds On the wing Above me in their hundreds Their remedying cadence Humming and resonating In my head It must have been September Swathed in the air of content And absence of dissonance Silently without warning The light of september Faded with the light of day To bore the fathomless The eruption of chaos When my coin flipped As I slept Happiness or sadness Out of my hands.
0
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 7:40 PM UTC
Cold Nostalgia
The late afternoon sun Whose heat dusk Would soon to absorb Sifted through the window Exposing particles of dust Lightly strewn On the glistening cement floor Of the passageway It must have been September Daisied grass beneath my feet Ladybird crawling Along my fingertip A fleet of autumnal birds On the wing Above me in their hundreds Their remedying cadence Humming and resonating In my head It must have been September Swathed in the air of content And absence of dissonance Silently without warning The light of september Faded with the light of day To bore the fathomless The eruption of chaos When my coin flipped As I slept Happiness or sadness Out of my hands.
noose
Written by
32/F
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 7:40 PM UTC
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