Leaves chant in brown, "Thirty days hath November, too."
What is that I hear? I draw a lingering breath,
as I contemplate this year, the outwash of death.
Autumn has arrived. And I remember anew...
We grasshoppers rest, unlike the diligent ant;
chills we don't address and our breakdowns break again.
Short of sevenfold success, winter will bring pain.
My hope:...
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