Photo: Ramon Guzman, 2017
What then
Of fallen leaves on sidewalks
Matted patchwork of crimsons, ambers, rusts
Faded chlorophyll
Of longer nights
Cool ponderous hours, minutes, seconds
Fading memories
Of an aging owl perched high in an Oak
Experienced eyes thinking, seeing, remembering
Fleeting opportunities
Of a moonless sky
Vast space, constellations, possibilities
Certain death
And continued rebirth
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