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Date Posted:21:14:18 10/18/01 Thu Author Host/IP: dial-90.pm3-1-scrn.satelephone.com/63.85.22.90
There is a stirring in the trees
Autumns breathe murmuring
Softly, amidst the colorful leaves
A telling of the season’s secrets
Spread from dying leaf to stem
Echoing within the wooden heart
Carrying from limb to limb
A hidden desire to always remember
That which might or could have been
Dangling by a thread, buffeted by the wind
Yet always there is another season
And still more secrets left to tell
For the leaves are always dying
Raked in a pile near where they fell
Generations upon generations
Leaves falling on the ground
Rotting secrets left unturned
Bagged, buried, or burned
Ripped from quivering limb
Lifeless piles of untold secrets
Whose memories have faded dim
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