Each a tiny myth
Ashes fall as fire snowflakes
Summer’s scent gone cold
A cold open
This November unrehearsed
The script falls short
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sketchingwords.com 
the fires start to die,
with the smoke drifting about,
a cold day’s coming
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Great depiction. Loved it.
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“Summer’s scent gone cold” I like that.
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Thanks for taking the time to comment.
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