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Three-Quarters
Three-quarters of a year is gone
For (snap your fingers), just like that!
September will, by morrow’s dawn,
Roll up and store the welcome mat.
October’s waiting in the wings,
Her pumpkins all prepared to go,
As autumn strides, with all it brings,
To set the foliage aglow.
Since Nature’s rules we must obey,
We’ll flip the calendar once more
And fill those boxes on display
With all the plans we have in store.
Copyright ©
Ilene Bauer
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