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 Books litter the bed,
leaves the lawn.
It lightly rains.
Fall has come: unpatterned, in the shedding leaves.
The maples ripen.
Apples come home crisp in bags.
This pear tastes good.
It rains lightly on the random leaf patterns.
The nimbus is spread above our island.
Rain lightly patters on un- shed leaves.
The books of fall litter the bed.

by James Schuyler
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