As I watch time hurry past…

I could not write to describe you.

Much as I desired to ascribe to you,

The winter and the fall in leaves of thoughts,

All my literary  plans tied in frustrating knots,

Frozen in admiration,

Tired, lone, adoration,

Twigs of frail memories,

Icicles on my stories,

Yet I shall wait

Horizon  hope to light

In crimson dusk,

Paint your sight.

 

YFall3

 

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