And he saw how the reeds grew dark At the coming of night-tide,’ W.B. Yeats.
last sunset
fog rolling across the moor
this new moon night
is there time for one more breath,
for one last kiss goodbye?
And he saw how the reeds grew dark At the coming of night-tide,’ W.B. Yeats.
last sunset
fog rolling across the moor
this new moon night
is there time for one more breath,
for one last kiss goodbye?
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Frank J. Tassone-American Haijin by Frank J. Tassone is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0
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