Selection

THE BALTIMORE SUN

Yesterday the leafy trinity was intact,

Aloft and resplendent,

Red and gold and green.

That evening, autumn's winnowing wind

Sifted the trinity of glorious color.

Uncannily the swirl and whirl

Scythed through the branches,

Tumbling to the ground the red leaves,

Only the red leaves,

The next day we found the dead,

The fallen red leaves lying aground,

Now faded, unmoving, untombed,

In crimson ranks on a bloodied field.

Above them their companions,

Still brilliant in gold and green,

Waited motionless for the rustle, the wind,

The inevitable.

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