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Steel suns set to rise to bronze
the clouds that cape the
superman mountains of autumn.
Leaves dye to illuminate that
mystic river valley of broken dreams.
Dust scarves the trees that stretch
to hold the morning light as the
red oaks and yellow maples
consort as we once did.
The branches entwined. The roots
intermingled. The colors splashed
in breathing swaths that pulsed
and teased moons that shared
the periwinkle sky of youth. Now
I precipice alone with only
my soft oak bark as comfort.
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