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Autumn leaves fly
in the wind, blow
across the land, crumble
under foot, and color
soil in shades alive.
Pages flutter,
as books are read,
folio all, tapestry
of words, sprinkle
silently across sight.
People wisp away
from our life, littering
memory with faint
remnants, crumbling heart,
and stalling soul.
© 2009 Lisa G. Beaudoin
Beauty
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[image: David Corbett for Writer Unboxed]
*“Such a strange and frightening time. Beauty won’t save us, but it can
remind us of what deserves to be saved....
2 days ago
1 comment:
I love this poem! Wow. Especially the last stanza.
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