"We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike." ~Maya Angelou

Friday, December 9, 2016

Poem: Pas de Deux

Winter and Autumn have danced
hand to wrist for weeks through
dark November streets.
The Old Man frosting every surface
through the long, cold nights, and
Autumn melting it away with
the morning sun in her bright skirts. 

Coats are unzipped and gloves stuffed
into pockets by noon. Faces glow.
Coming into this chilly season through
Summer's gates, we embrace the cold.
A bounty of acorns crunch under foot
and October pumpkins, sleepy eyed,
slump into mufflers of gypsy leaves.

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