By Carol on September 22, 2012 5:59 AM
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Autumn
by T. E. Hulme
A touch of cold in the Autumn night
I walked abroad, And saw the
ruddy moon lean over a hedge Like a red-faced farmer. I did not stop to
speak, but nodded; And round about were the wistful stars With white faces
like town children.
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This page contains a single entry by Carol published on September 22, 2012 5:59 AM.
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