Slipping sideways,
this summer night
whistles it’s message.
To the blue mountains
I should retreat.
My lover’s gone,
but still, I have my good name –
and the crowing of a poet.
Yet still with memory’s ear,
blossoms droop and die.
I never can forget.
Gently smiles the heavens
A Wandering Poet 
Too good ❤️
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