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Leaves poem |
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Leaves (A
poem in response to page 171) A man looks up through the leaves Shaken by the night sky Which looked suddenly peculiar to him A dark figure can be faintly seen, Through those vague trees Coming closer and closer Sharp shots were heard But nothing was thought about them But, an instinct brought someone home But those leaves were Spinning in a whirlwind An empty mattress floating by, The yellowing leaves keep twirling Led by the small flurry of wind Blowing carelessly on the lifeless pool Beth Herdmann
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