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The greying skies and falling leaves

The detritus that fills the eaves

The blanket that will crunch when stepped

Dims to a whiff, soft secret kept

As days fly by, like birds on wing

“Goodbye sweet berth” the leaving sing

In quiet do I sit and muse

To live with change is what I choose

There’s comfort in not being settled

To be in flux shall prove my mettle

Like whole cloth stitched of varied parts

Each season nests in rooms of heart

They’ll come to fore in their due time

And sanctified they are in rhyme

The Fall now in its dissipation

Met it’s not with consternation

We’re taught that when the death of things

Is cyclical, new life it brings

So do not mourn that which you see

Return it will, tis meant to be…

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