Etude d'automne (Autumn study)

Here days are gray;

here gold goes on

creating leaves

to rhyme with russet, yes -

to syncopate

with auburn, lemon, almond.... Voices of gold

keep crying across

the dark of the bark, the mesh of memory.

Here days are gray

to let the brush

touch the palette between us.

There is no crimson in our lives

as gold defines our season.

Leaves are moments - lovely, lingering....

Autumn in us

is their ceaseless language of falling within.

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