An Autumn Prayer

-------An Autumn Prayer-------

Nightbirds tag along beneath the silver moon.

A shimmer of Winter.

Delicate.

At dawn,

I walk into the woods,

down, along a hill

of red and golden maple,

into mist and amber dreams

where the beeches hold the green.

I do not wish to hope,

nor to be still

while the world counts down the days.

I wish 

to fly with the seasons

so gently and quiet,

as a leaf 

falls.

I pray.

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