I feel a presence. Behind my shoulder
the autumn wind is undressing auburn trees
who with night’s dignity disrobe for winter slumber.
I feel a presence behind my shoulder
of a lamp snapping active. Modest trees shudder,
shamefully bare: unnatural light exposes naked canopies.
I feel a presence behind my shoulder.
The autumn wind is undressing auburn trees.
© B. Jason Reardon
Original composed 11/23/99
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