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the leaves dust the streets
with shifting colors of golden rust.
the memories of autumn past
drift past with fading certainty.
as sure as i know the next day will come,
my breath comes out like mist,
disappearing before my fingers.
where summer sky used to smile
and the winter grayness comforted,
the golden sky dreams of lost souls
in another universe apart from ours.
the leaves wither away into dust
under the wheels of roaring cars
and the rhythm of careless feet
stomping over what once was.
the ending is near,
in the mournful whistle of the bird
and the uneven gait of a person
wandering across roads and sidewalks,
lost –
i hear its song,
and the world demands i pay its debt
with the only surety of life – death.


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