By Anna Sykora
While autumn makes the sum of us, Reducing light and day To tolerable deficits Regarded with dismay, I dream the summer you, my one, Could make me seed and thrive: What ecstasy of budded leaves — Yes, I have been alive.
While autumn makes the sum of us, Reducing light and day To tolerable deficits Regarded with dismay,
I dream the summer you, my one, Could make me seed and thrive: What ecstasy of budded leaves — Yes, I have been alive.
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