Tell
I watch the young run and jump through autumn leaves
In all my years, I am those leaves
Red and golden, as they rustle by a cold wind
I watch the young trundle in joy through deep snow
Soon I will be that snow
After the spring
Their summer
The last autumn of our lives
The winter foretells us beneath a graying sky--it is time
cul de sac
2 months ago
2 comments:
You speak the truth SC.
I sent you a message in a bottle. It says "please continue to blog."
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