Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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OCTOBER 18

Against the thought of autumn
I fled, sullen wind smoke of leaves
burning, cold griping the last green
memory of my birth at that blue horizon
war beyond its girth, fear in night time
blackouts, yet this old man still lives
to sing in tropic climes, far from the dead.




c) Jan G. Otterstrom F. October 31, 2013