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                            The Lost Souls of Yesteryear
A cool breeze purred through the barren branches of the old oak tree,
as shimmering moonbeams danced between the shadowy dark clouds,
gently penetrating the mirrored lake far below.
The timeless call of autumn last, beckoning the lost souls
of yesteryear to awaken and breathe once more,
 before old man winter puts on his snow cap and
 takes his long, cold nap!   
Jackie R. Kays
© 2013

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