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Taken by Leaves
Sharp breeze, scurrying leaves,
plastic
bag
scurries, in the sound
of snow flurries
stirring
in the lost and found:
Where
the sun goes
subsequent to weeping
depths
of spiraling
petals
of
rose. Sorrow has chosen them that are chose:
Recipients of sorrows. Where we go when we go.
Published 27th Oct 2022
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