t wolfe
there is a well , a sun , a grass ;
i see them through the river
in my glass - i see the cold
conspire in the summer's pass .
beauty comes as beauty ... plain !
i've watched the seasons' simple square ,
while looking at the window pane ; the air
is loveliness coming to lick my eyes .
a grass , a sun , a well , & beauty
can be made to disappear - the clear
chill runs under clouds' soft boot ...
the light could only fade .
llorenzo gusto¤ - via narcissus & the boneHunters all rites @ preserved
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