no e-mail today
as I hide from the cold air
of almost snowing
the day is still young
in your virtual mailbox
this message awaits
the train leaves behind
the letter you intended
me to take along
that worthless paper
blows away with autumn leaves
pieces of my heart
a winter storm hurts
but tries in vain to supress
what spring will restore
supressing my tongue
peering into the abyss
it's tonsilitis
your haiku fails to
follow the path we were on
but evokes a tale:
the path is a web
'supressing' links my haiku
all is relevant

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