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There is little traffic on this dead end road.
A river flows under a girder bridge.
The mountainside, once on fire with color,
is past its glorious prime.

Leaf-tornados stir up the evening,
brown and dying like Adam and Eve.
Fallen leaves are twirling and dancing.
Twirling and dancing:

A part of the essence of the fall.
The wind picks up and blows like a whistle.
One part of the sky remains angel-wing blue.
The mountainside is past its prime,

a hint of mist cools the country air.
But who would notice?
The river under a girder bridge,
where two trains pass on the parallel tracks?

One train is full of coal.  The other is
longer and completely empty.
I wave at the westbound engineer.
The blue in the sky grows darker and darker.
first published in Right Hand Pointing and later in Paper Snowflakes

paper snowflakes.jpg

available from Southern Hum Press

October 2007
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