Shadorma #2

353375

November
Fills me with sorrow–
it’s when my
father died,
nine years ago. Then, I cried
until December.

skat@2017

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To Every Season

For Bill B:

Come summer, I long
For winter; in winter I
long once more for spring.
Come Autumn, I’m contented
But for everything dying.

Skat@2017