Finnish Maiden dancing on top of swamp,
September viper threshold
over the case, but the winter bridge
there is still time and the October
morning still here to be seen.
I take up wild cool
dreams into the arms of September
wake up. As
heaths of Kalevala
Marjatta way I travel.
cranberries in the woods
aglow call, collect
me, I will still be here
redder, heftier
I am. And in September it is
something like a fairy tale, even if the
has already been a lot of moments
when the sun does not shine.
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