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November 1, 2003

Limbs from the tree fall
with little scraps of leaves
speckling the autumn colors
littered in the soft, wet grass.
The rain softly coats my skin
just like once it did, beneath
the gray skies that gently wash
all these feelings in love.
I'm catching your scent on the breeze
as the air softly caresses me
and reminds me of daydream fingers
once so much a part of me...
That gentle memory pierces all
of the things in this world
that I hold dear and live real.
The rain leaves me exposed, again.
I reach down to touch the branch
that lies there at my feet,
my hand only comes away wet,
and the branch seems no more real.
My breathing is shallow and slow
against the cool breeze around me.
None of it is as important as
the hope and fear autumn has brought.
I leave a wet print on my pants
as I wipe away the dirt and rain
and close my eyes to whisper a wish
to the clouds, once again.
I turn back to my house, away from
these thoughts of uncertainty.
I close the door behind me,
and the warmth invades my reverie...