seasonal recollections

Vermillion leaves,
Fall from pale limbs aloft,
In death, true beauty.

Gently falling snow,
Turn harsh corners to soft mounds,
All life to a dream.

Smells of blossom-rains,
And the playful wind-whispers.
Let me go, lost days.

Man-made fields gleam green,
Baked into false-permanence,
‘neath Her mournful gaze.


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