TWO APPLES IN THE
APPLE BASKET
When Autumn comes I'm blue.
I'm ready for it, but blue. Blue
like the passing of a sky in a flight
of dark night, one jet alone, lit
from within, ripping thorugh its
ether. Another 'sphere in the
atmosphere. And I can never
keep myself from thinking
ahead - and way too far
ahead at that. It's not yet
even Summer, and I'm
pushing it all
away.
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