Falling Leaves
by Stephen Damon
Like free-falling leaves
At the end of summer
My memories fill the air.
I try to grasp one
Then another, but I can
Not catch them all.
Soon the ground will be covered
In sunburned colors of autumn
And the trees will be bare.
I let go of hundreds of years
Open my hands and walk, silent
Watching my silhouette
Fade like the shadows
And sorrows of a thousand
Forgotten dreams.
Bows,
Stephen
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