Out of Season

Granite Falls Tree
 
 
The air splintered; the trees remained upright.
      I alone stumbled.

(I think that trees shed their leaves not because
of a rift, a lack of desire, but for a love that
truly pains arms which hold tight . . . )

I will be generous when I am able.
The doors around us latch like Winter
      settling in.
 
 

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