staring
into brittle gold
remembering leaves
pauses
me
fans relief
stretches sculptures
from
the waves
from
the wind
beginning
in Spring
and
onto Summer
through
Autumn
through
green to bleed
through the death knells
scratching at the door
of
a soul’s forged well
they draw these bells
of
scattered memories
afoot
into dreams
and they are all
waiting
to be
caught in the walkways
like
I am right now
clutching
spun wheel chances
from
the Sun to the rain
marking
each step
into
this warm
late
October afternoon
as
another gait
another rhythm
another story
to tell
EJR
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