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Leaves fell faster this year,
Maple, oak, calendar…
I rake them, mound them,
leaf through them
looking for childhood.

They burn in beautiful bonfires,
Sparks rise heavenward
like so many fireflies.
I travel backwards
to when I still knew how to sing.

Marshmallows toast the season.
Guitars make love
to the air.
Lord, give me this day…
to keep forever.

The fire, suddenly gone shy
beneath a harvest moon,
slips slowly to embers.
I stir the ashes,
awakening old dreams.

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