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Words are worth a thousand pictures.

Friday, March 25, 2011

At The Turn of The Seasons

Fall hangs in the frosty air.
The leaves have fallen,
the world waits for a breaking point.


The grey dancers loom overhead,
foretelling what is to come.


Fall hangs on the trees like
tinsel,
on hair like water,
on our bones. 


It stands silent, poised and 
unmoving.


Waiting for something to 
shatter the calculated surface.

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