Wry Summer Day
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
0
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On a wry summer day
I chased a nymph
But so fast she
Left me behind
And giggled
She
She
Hid
Not
In a wood
Or trees
That languished dry
I saw her enter
Into a dry rock
And
Lo! The waters
Flowed
Drank I
And sang as I had
Not sang that day.
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