NaPoWriMo Day 6

End of Summer

I once beheld dreams as leaves
Green and full of life
Their veins clear against the sunlight
Never to see autumn
Never to let go
Never to crinkle.
But some I behold now as at end of summer
wondering if fall will come
on them
after all.

Crushed to brown powder
And scattered to the wind–
some of them, yes.

But might I gather them into a pile
still shining with orange and red
and, piled high, full of the smell of earth
LEAP and believe
There’s life in them yet.


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