the dead, the dying, and everyone else

today
autumn
charged her cold metal paddles and
without warning - shocked me awake
the brisk confusion of damp foggy mist
draped the morning in soft beckoning
shy light peered over trees
calling with soft and wistful words

breathe
taste
remember

summer is for play
fall is for living
in tomorrow's winter
the youth of summer will die
fully faithed that
April's resurrection will happily
bear us anew

dg

10/9/12

Sent from my iPad

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