Oxymoron
It is September,
but under the whispering light
of the Southern Cross
the Spring is weaving its birth.
poem by Niko Tiliopoulos
Added by Poetry Lover
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It is September,
but under the whispering light
of the Southern Cross
the Spring is weaving its birth.
poem by Niko Tiliopoulos
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!