Vento freddo dell'autunno, saltante alto all'alba, una quindicina in ritardo, jostling i portelli e strappantesi attraverso la mia camera da letto per ricongiungere la nube, I sap-per posso sentire il sibilo e la raschiatura dei fogli lungo pavimento-Come possono i boughs, nudo frustato da questo, rastreller il cielo stipato di una volta di pi. Tardo e piuttosto sud dell'est, il sole aumenter lungamente, dato a conoscere pi dalla luce magra aumentata che da un disc nello splendour indicato; Quando, avendo ma girare la mia testa, attraverso l'acero messo a nudo vedr, brullo e ricordato di, rattoppato con colore rosso, la collina che tutta l'estate si nascosta da me.
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