He woke with a start.
Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen, And tall as Amazon: An old red blanket cloak she wore, A chip-hat had she on.
We watched the ungreening of the trees as they put on their fall wardrobes of bright colors.
Last week, I was coming home in the secluded dark of the just-post-solstice Hudson River Greenway. I vaguely make out a... well, a vonce would be the correct term. A little annoying thing in my mirror.
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