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Fading
Another summer
Fading,
Almost dark at nine,
No one’s bitching
About the heat,
Complaints have
Switched to cool
Damp mornings
And the high
Cost
of heating,
Two wise old timers
Wondering out loud
If this is their last one,
A farewell season
To tight shorts,
Labia lines, tank tops,
Cleavage and nippled hills
Teasing come camp forever.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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