Secret Ingredients
Autumn
summer in decline
the first fragments of autumn
strewn across my lawn
–
open windows-
under my blanket
flannel sheets
Fury
standing on the dock
raising high my glass, toasting
the impending storm
–
rusty hinges-
a garden gate
bangs in the night
Sleep
bone tired and weary
my eyes close and I pray for
the sleep of the dead
–
falling-
engulfed by darkness
deep and dreamless
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