Behind The Pane
A single drop of water
Trickled …
Down the window glass
A subtle sign
Of things to come
Puddling there …
Finding shelter
In the crossed wood
It, too, wanted to hide
The darkest blue clouds
Cold, crisp winds
That bind my bones
Kept me behind the pane
A second drop of water
A third and fourth
Then … thousands
Made the golden leaves
Shine …
Like never before.
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