Biography Beneath the leaves Of an amber autumn I hide myself, deep away At the foot of the trees
Colors above That sway in the soft breeze But I can see only one The branch of the turtle dove
This cool autumn Has taken away love And has thrown it from the trees It rests at the bottom
So far from here Over the fields of cotton The small white turtle doves fly A journey lasting years
A time has passed I can think without tears Back to the amber autumn That now rests in the past - David DeAngelo
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