There are passions
of our beings
past flowers,
trees.
My heart
received your
good-bye
letter,
today
In the aftermath
I rake leaves
― fervently ―
into the street.
It’s colder
here than usual.
What day is this?
Raking Leaves
There are passions
of our beings
past flowers,
trees.
My heart
received your
good-bye
letter,
today.
In the aftermath
I rake leaves
― fervently ―
into the street.
Its colder
here than usual.
What day is this?