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Writings and Witterings

Final Bow

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Napowrimo small
You were bought but a week ago,
bright and upright, blooming,
now you bow your browning heads,
like unkempt boys, no grooming.
Your fragrance, all consuming
fades away, there’s no resuming,
no comeback freshness looming,
You’re gone, no more perfuming.

Polly Stretton © 2020

napowrimo #29

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