Soon arrives while Green
the spring force, the time cycle
in patina. Its
the power to digest, break down
frost, and ice. now yet
is a time of melancholy
dwell within the writer.
I recall the summer, the beach stone
human warmth below.
Tears finding me,
I feel that I am the world
loneliest person.
This world is arrayed
depression robe,
always the same, when
new morning arrives to me.
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