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Penumbrae

The shadows have their seasons, too.
The feathery web the budding maples
cast down upon the sullen lawn

bears but a faint relation to
high summer's umbrageous weight
and tunnellike continuum—

black leached from green, deep pools
wherein a globe of gnats revolves

as airy as an astrolabe.
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Saturday, October 25, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
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