orgami's Diaryland Diary

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a peice of day

tall the grasses grow
and wild birds flit
harmonious teardops

the sun is receeding
taking her hours with
her
night is filling up the
great bowl of North
the cold hunger come
sweeping soon

the air is different
the sounds sharper
like clarity to the
seeing
no humid mists

quiet
reserved

3:50 p.m. - 2008-08-12

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