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Richard's Poor Almanac

By Richard Thompson
Sep 12, 2013
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in the autumn a poem

in the autumn, when it's fall, mother nature comes to call

on every hill, in every dale, in forest, meadow, field & vale,

with skill she wields her magic brush, so brings the trees to brilliant blush

mother nature: we'll do the next one in a sort of harvest gold.
squirrel 1: she knows they're just going to drop off, right?
squirrel 2: you tell her.
with her palette, bright & rich, and her taste for showy kitsch.
Sep 19, 2013
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