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Descent

Another equinox descends;
we’re still waiting for the rain.

I look around my neighborhood;
life is dwindling to nothing
but abandonment and despair.

Autumn winds blowing trash on my lawn.
Smoke and ash paint the season.

I can hear the echoes of disagreements
fading beyond the barking dogs.
The street lights no longer turn on.

Every dawn looks like the dusk.
The horizon seems nonexistent.

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