deepundergroundpoetry.com
maple leaves
at first,
just a
thought
of falling,
happy
now as
they lay,
unfaded,
but with
a whisper
from a
bitter wind,
it took
hands
that could
reach me
and
separated
us.
just a
thought
of falling,
happy
now as
they lay,
unfaded,
but with
a whisper
from a
bitter wind,
it took
hands
that could
reach me
and
separated
us.
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