“You lingering sparse leaves of me on winter-nearing boughs,
And I some well-shorn tree of field or orchard-row;
You tokens diminute and lorn—(not now the flush of May, or July clover-bloom—no grain of August now;)…”
—Walt Whitman (You Lingering Sparse Leaves of Me) 1892
#AIart #Midjourney7 #Poetry
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