Autumn, Come Quick
Autumn, come quick,
burn into my soul these
last impressions of you.
Every vowel of hope, pinned
upon consonants of intention,
I suffer the misgivings
of this memory lapse.
November 18, 2007
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Autumn, come quick,
burn into my soul these
last impressions of you.
Every vowel of hope, pinned
upon consonants of intention,
I suffer the misgivings
of this memory lapse.
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