lamenting the loss of autumn

in the rhythm of the seasons i am living and dying -

if like the leaves i could burst forth with vigorous color
at my impending death
fall broken, swept up by the wind's breath,
and carried by that other force
which is always brooding anyway
then this is life and in dying live.

- i delight in the dying, and despair of the death.


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added another entry: this time of year