Two Squares and a Circle

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What ghosts follow when you track

back so far?  Stone foundations,

full of your words, crumble and roll,

and the pine pieces, marked by knots

of pain and despair, age away in

forgetfulness.  Is this a blessing,

when the holes appear, let light and cold

pass, allow locked in grievances to leave?

Or does it all remain anyway, underneath

the rusted metal roof – the hurts

that can’t be released, circling around

the structure as time takes it down?

There’s still a place to let it go –

two squares and a circle.

 

 

Gracious November

I walked two miles with my eyes closed,

while autumn’s colors crunched beneath my steps.

Now and again I stumbled, but righted myself,

and continued on my way.  The sparrows

listened to my miles and asked, “Why?” and when

I did not answer or open my eyes, again, “Why?”

The path knew my steps well and did not change.

November sheds a gracious scent, knowing

he’s an older gentleman, and I breathed in, and took

his hand, walked on until the circle’s end.  And there

I opened up my eyes again.  Daylight had fled,

leaving me there to greet the night, with gracious November,

my friend.

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