Perhaps today
To think of yesterday
There were meadows
Filled to bursting
Under foot
Crushed camomile
Roses at the
The vine rows' end
Sunflowers just about
To bow their heads
Cosmos tall above
The scabious by the hedge
Summer lodged
Between the lavender and sage
Returning as my melody
Between the music and this page.
JL 5 Nov 2011
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