These winds,
the late October winds,
hollow me out.
There are so many scents,
each one wakes a part of me.
I do the work of the day
but I am elsewhere.
It's like time travel.
Each leaf is a name
of someone whose life
I drifted into and out of.
Every one beautiful,
their faces so bright.
Swiftly grown,
swiftly gone.
Well, I'll try this again, and see if I can post my comment before it is snatched away, as if by a mighty wind. I had said something to the effect of "nice poem" and also related the all-important news that it had been a little breezy up this way, too, when my first comment disappeared. Write on.
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