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Another spring passes by
Crossing beyond the solstice –
A spring, on being faded away,
Tells the folktales of the days bygone.

The junction is hesitant,
The transition is downstream,
The sundown is loathsome,
The equinox gallops from vernal to autumnal –
Crouching its glow from far to near,

The luster reaches alight to another hemisphere
Where the drizzling rain of loss –
The wet-eyed loss of losing intensity –
Of losing blood imbued in vermilion,
And from vermilion to faded yellow-orange…
Crossing beyond the solstice
The fading hue shadows in the blood.

Have you ever found
This geography in blood?
Such lack-luster, pale and
Losing intensity -
Like twilight?

Is it good, doctor?
To see twilight in blood –
Telling folktales of the days bygone?

It was my old poet pal's query to me.

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The following comments are for "SENT UP PROGENY"
by Myth

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