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Song of November and April

The cloudy sky
blanks out my eyes.

To restore them, I
place a yellow flower
next to them.

I can’t change them.
They remain lifeless, blank.

(Between my shoulders
my full and golden soul takes wing.)

The April sky
turns my eyes indigo.

To give them a soul, I
place a white rose
next to them.

I can’t make white
blend with indigo.

(Between my shoulders
my blind and stony soul takes wing.)

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