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Late Upon a Fallen Season

Frost crinkles late blooms, a lacy white netting invades upon a morning haze. Fall sheds itself, undrapes heat discarding warmth in leafy twill and tissue. Later the sun will counterattack the chill will melt upon a tepid winds still gilded breath, yet a shade of winter is moving, weaving itself into the mud and earth, it is tracing a chill unseen river and where that cooling pauses the living must find cover or pass away.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things