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Saturday, September 22, 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Last Canoe of the Season
Long has paled that sunny sky: |
Echoes fade |
and memories die: |
Autumn frosts have slain July |
Still she haunts me, phantomwise, |
Alice moving under skies |
Never seen by waking eyes. |
Ever drifting |
down the stream — |
Lingering |
in the golden gleam — |
Life, what is it but a dream? |
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Monday, September 10, 2012
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