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Elegy for the summer that's gone
It's fall
the end
winter it's just
some days away
last leaves
fall around and die
sending wet invitations
for their melancholic funeral
calling all shy hobbits
to come
but they're gone
deep in their warm caves
away from publicity
maintaining a low profile
waiting
for the next spring
late may
when you will born
again
and again will bloom
prettier than ever
my little maroon
flower...
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