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Amihan: Northeast Wind

The cold, frigid wind Descends slowly to the east Dissipates at noon The cold turns to heat And quite often I forget This warm, pleasant treat The cold makes unwell Those near equatorial line Feel drunk with chilled wine My cold heart is dead Unpainfully doth unbleed Ends the heat of deeds The cold makes me doubt Life is meaningless without The breath of his mouth.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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