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SEPTEMBER FALLS
Sunlight dictates our days somehow
Evenings speak of duvets now
People begin to cough or sneeze
Trees start to dread each single breeze
E-type says there’s nowhere to park
Mornings complain about the dark
Blackberries doubt that they’ll get picked
English sheepdog begs for a stick
Radio talks of candidates
Fake news drowns out any debate
Autumn colours each working day
Leaves demand to be swept away
Last week’s paper knew it was true
September would remember you.
Copyright ©
Martin Challender
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