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Autumn's Mourning

The Rococo summer
Breathes its last soft sigh
Into my cocked ear
As russet autumn's
Muted hues settle against the world
Cloaked as mourning
For a friend not yet gone
But as surely lost as the July noon
When sunshine and laughter
Ruled the day
And icy tears seemed
So far distant
Written by L_Munro
Published
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