Fading Light
Against the fading light comes night,
Charging past horizon true,
Tinting pink,
As sun falls through.
Such careless wind creates the sound
Of battered leaves
Upon old ground.
The scent of snow strikes a blow--
Releases thoughts
Of winter's cold
And all the fears
Dark memories hold.
Quick--gather fuel to light the way
Of those who run
On feet of clay,
And need your warmth
To wait for day.
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