Seasons

Standard

*

I end up at times

visiting old friends

dinners stretching

.

over time feeding

our souls

the privilege

.

of recalling

the spirit’s

visitations

.

our hearts

a candle burning

quietly

.

steadily shaking

in the evening

breeze leaves

.

we are made to fall

and to die

full of colors

.

when it’s season

.

.

“Not Rosaries Nor Missals” is a collections of poems started on July 2013. This poem comes from that collection.

l

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