An End
Something in the air this night
Heavy with cherry pipe briar,
As we leave what matters most
To silence – the exquisite liar.
We know this will be an end
Though it is left unsaid;
A filigree of morning frost
Upon the rose, still red.
There will be no final call
Or late night coffee under trees;
I caress the car to life,
Watch the wavering, falling leaves.
Copyright © Glen Enloe | Year Posted 2006
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