More bad poetry by Lydia
NOVEMBER
I had planned to visit her in the Spring but from the summer it seems a lifetime.
I know that this is not so.
Yet I cannot wait.
I could wait, but I do not want to.
November 26 marks the day that another year has gone by in my time.
I will reward myself for having experienced another set of seasons.
Her company as a birthday present to myself.
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