Pome: The First Night Is The Toughest
And the last…
The First Night Is The Toughest
i found a summer in autumn
where the longgrass lays
the ingotlit meadow threw washes of incandescence
the sun some wobbly siren warbling madrigals
and there was me,
among it,
feeling it,
a thrall
personal concerto
eternal photograph
this ide as all ides
are
forever
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