A week of eighty eights, each dropping one by one.
No single chance for seventy, skipping lithely by.
A single breeze, a lick of chill.
A silent bloom of sudden clouds.
For all its balmy predecessors,
it secreted the call,
"I'm here,
It's Fall."
No single chance for seventy, skipping lithely by.
A single breeze, a lick of chill.
A silent bloom of sudden clouds.
For all its balmy predecessors,
it secreted the call,
"I'm here,
It's Fall."
![](http://i289.photobucket.com/albums/ll208/lyndsayjohnson/lyndsaysig.png)
(Poem by me. If borrowed, please cite.)
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Beautiful poem and awesome photo of your little guy. I love the earings on Crystal B's blog. Wish me luck. Great Blog:)!
hooray for fall!
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