Leaf time
Ten-years-towned eight floors above a concrete ground, I long to wade a dusty mound of maple leaves October-downed. I yearn to reach a rake around to gather in with scratching sound a weightless crowd at last refound -- by cold unbound.
Ten-years-towned eight floors above a concrete ground, I long to wade a dusty mound of maple leaves October-downed. I yearn to reach a rake around to gather in with scratching sound a weightless crowd at last refound -- by cold unbound.
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