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Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Laura walks ahead;
Gilda trots alongside of her.
Sun paints both of them.

The wind blows the leaves
Sailing them through the sunshine.
They rasp on the road.

Here and there brown hills;
Dead leaves blown into mountains.
Still the warm sun shines.

The woods have no end:
Sun/shade go on forever.
The soft wind whispers.

The old black dog pants,
Lying in the warm sunshine
Then glances at me.

Bright red berries grow
Near the faded white flowers.
Winter is coming.

Shadow blotched road
Marking where the sun is not.
Leaf floats in the light.

Pickup races by
Followed by a whirl of leaves;
Then other leaves float.

The stone angel prays
Touched by the warm Fall sunshine
And blessed by the breeze.

Bright green grasshopper
Flies off road and into grass
Then becomes a blade.


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