by
 
 
Corduroy
 
Deep I took of November'd air,
Into my lungs a gentle peace, 
And with no effort let it go
Like a child's first cry released. 
 
A smile drawn upon her face
Whose features I could not forget,
While Autumn's light did frame her well
Like timber'd dell -- before she set. 
 
How swift upon my heart she sews
A little pocket for her dole. 
Soft and strong and tailor'd with care,
Neatly suturing closed -- the hole. 
 
Not long until a winter sky
Will blanket o'er this heart at rest. 
Yet corduroy'd to keep the warmth
Threaded within a happy chest. 
 
 
 
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