When the days grow cold
and the woods
wear the colors
of the sun,
I envy the way
the trees silently
set free their leaves
into the autumn wind.
In my grief, I have carried the dead
and dying leaves of seasons long gone.
Let this be the day
I open my palms
and let them fall.
Let me learn the lesson
the trees quietly teach:
everything we’ve lost
was not meant for us to keep.
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