A burning sun in cloudless skies And April dies, A dusty mall—three sunsets splendid— And May is ended, Grey mud beneath—grey cloud o'erhead And June is dead. A little bill in late July And then we fly.
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A burning sun in cloudless skies And April dies, A dusty mall—three sunsets splendid— And May is ended, Grey mud beneath—grey cloud o'erhead And June is dead. A little bill in late July And then we fly.
Choose another poem