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Twinkling Parallax

Poems, prose, short fiction, and other rubbish.

November

Posted by Prester John Saturday, November 22, 2008 at 8:13 PM

Autumn graves for summer’s slaves
Deadly bits of treason
Fortune tells of enclaves
Hidden from the season
Shackled to the fallen oak
With leaves and twigs aplenty
I sit and watch the chimney smoke
And sob so violently

 

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