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Changeable Weather
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wet morning
but is already
brightening up
a time for the sun
on your face
the impish wind is raising
my gauzy scarf
is sailing and as the kite
on the sky
an August sun
through leaves
it is lighting
and is going out
as the candle blown out
when the night is falling...
poem
by
Dagmara Anna AuraDagimar
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