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julie payette
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Her Name Was Autumn
Naked she stands
bare to the bone.
Cold and empty
As if shaken to death.
The color and life that once lived
has gone.
And all she had rests below her.
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2008
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Walking Out
Story Continued...
Poetry is and is Not
One More Bone
Her Name Was Autumn
Her Name is Autumn
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