Remember Me
REMEMBER ME
NOVEMBER IN AMSTERDAM
This must be
where fallen leaves
come to settle.
The two of us, not quite
in our dotage yet, feel at home,
anchored in such an autumn.
Submerge my heart in one of these dykes
when I'm gone.
Ashes, you see, need the clutches
of still brown waters
to escape being scattered to the winds.
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