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Friday, September 18, 2009

Even as the Dead Leaves Fall


New spray of flowers
Even as the dead leaves fall;
Things always growing.









Soft winds of Autumn
Bend the tops of swaying trees
Bringing faint rich smells.









Dove on a phone wire
Watches the falling dead leaves
Unfazed by the breeze.

Ladder against barn

Is tentatively leaning--
Might push it over.

A sudden stillness
Envelopes road and woods;
Only my mind screams.

Blossoms in sunshine
Seem much happier than most,
Glowing in the light.

Sunlight in the woods
Has sneaked in, skimming the ground,
Avoiding shadows.

The wind softly speaks
Whispers in hush syllables
To be translated.



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