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Dolor of Autumn

 The acrid scents of autumn, 
Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear 
Everything, tear-trembling stars of autumn 
And the snore of the night in my ear.
For suddenly, flush-fallen, All my life, in a rush Of shedding away, has left me Naked, exposed on the bush.
I, on the bush of the globe, Like a newly-naked berry, shrink Disclosed: but I also am prowling As well in the scents that slink Abroad: I in this naked berry Of flesh that stands dismayed on the bush; And I in the stealthy, brindled odours Prowling about the lush And acrid night of autumn; My soul, along with the rout, Rank and treacherous, prowling, Disseminated out.
For the night, with a great breath intaken, Has taken my spirit outside Me, till I reel with disseminated consciousness, Like a man who has died.
At the same time I stand exposed Here on the bush of the globe, A newly-naked berry of flesh For the stars to probe.

by David Herbert Lawrence
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