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(Poem by Wendy Howe ) Late summer wind, she breathes softly casting to every leaf and petal, every stem and stone, a scent of gratitude. The rice has grown long and rich as a young bride's hair, the hook has anchored many fish with jeweled fins, and fog has tied a sash of happiness around the evergreen swimming like squid against the pale currents of sky. Late summer wind, she drifts slowly dipping her quill into the ink of our blood; and we stir fire. - the mood of Autumn burns soft and contemplative. To know more about Wendy Howe All Images & Poems (En) |
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