Warm Winds

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Rough winds may play this day, trailed twigs to sway,
to thresh and ply while sun's faint gaze looms out,
but for a darker cloud to shroud in doubt;
yet, lemon-eyed, brightness will have his say;

and despite these winds robust inquiries,
burring stiff sticks of restless elders, now,
the ruffed yews will hardly yield a bow,
for all their fine-fringed obsequities.

Prognosis is a warm austerity,
breached by the generosity of weeds:
moss, docks, grass growing through apple rot,

opportune dandelion leaves, to be
foundations of future's make-up - frost forgot
to stop the growing season, quell their needs.

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