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WinsPoetry
Friday, January 13, 2023
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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About Me
Winslow
A freedom seeker on a quest to discern what is real/true from the arbitrary rules, customs and traditions put in place over the centuries by largely patriarchal-led cultures.
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