I found this one on my computer, leftover from fall. Thought there was more to say but decided it’ll stand as-is.
Three bare trees overhang a flagstone patio
Two lone leaves linger from November
One lone man is reflected
In mist, fog, puddles.
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My inner poet begs to be set free. Some of these musings are old, some are new; some observed, others lived. Enjoy.
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