A Fallen Muse
A FALLEN MUSE
September's gilded glow..
a meditative illumination..
lemon not ..yellow.
Within and without the fading
light moves wraith-like to
and fro..
Upon the Autumn breeze..
the glory..and the regret..
as Summer's muse prepares
to go.
You hear me recite this and most of my PS poetry on youtube under my pen name ichthyschiro.
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