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Standing on the edge, watching all that comes and goes, how long before you? Advertisements
Cold wind of autumn blows across green summer grass, waiting for the snow.
Floating in our midst Our troubles never drift far, A blossom can appear.
When times are busy, even hectic, I ponder on what might have been.
The warm sun beats down on me caressing my cheek dreaming yesterdays.
Warm breezes come now. Ask August or September. Winter will come soon.
Floating in the air, Facing sunrise and sunset, Leaving us smiling.