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Literature Text
The pale keening of cicadas
echoes in the sun's lingering hue
and on the horizon
smoke unfurls its wooded glory
through the glen.
Pumpkins crown the curling vines
in triumph,
waiting to be claimed
in greedy grasps
and turned like changeling goblins
after dark;
and this bright crush
of maize and barley
carves the crisp evening
and singes our eyes
in the fine glory of a psalm.
echoes in the sun's lingering hue
and on the horizon
smoke unfurls its wooded glory
through the glen.
Pumpkins crown the curling vines
in triumph,
waiting to be claimed
in greedy grasps
and turned like changeling goblins
after dark;
and this bright crush
of maize and barley
carves the crisp evening
and singes our eyes
in the fine glory of a psalm.
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