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blowing frost on a star and gravestone quickening our steps like Charlie Chaplain turning maple leaf into rubies and gold churning flocks into wind splashed shoals now we're hunched over like Quasi Moddo the homeless sinking deeper into their hole November struts about and barks like a crow

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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Date: 11/2/2020 3:43:00 PM
Brilliant poem, Anthony! Love the imagery! :)
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