I love late Autumn afternoons
Prone to random gusts of wind
As they make leaves dance
Across green grass now covered
In brown as they rotted on branches
A sudden whistling from somewhere
Sounding like a distant bamboo flute
Sending reminisces through my vacant
Thoughts of when I was a boy in a lonely
Distant dream making my heart smile.
Prone to random gusts of wind
As they make leaves dance
Across green grass now covered
In brown as they rotted on branches
A sudden whistling from somewhere
Sounding like a distant bamboo flute
Sending reminisces through my vacant
Thoughts of when I was a boy in a lonely
Distant dream making my heart smile.
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