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Red and oranges

Yellows and golds, Brown, Dry, In two thirteen August the ground, Dead and brown, Crisp, Fall struck the imaginary gonk, Not this year, Not twenty twenty-two, The yards are still lush and green, A storm in Florida nearing land, I dream of awakening in my small home surrounded by tall pines, Tamaracks the only pineContinue reading “Red and oranges”

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