No One Knows

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No one really knows the face

behind the garden gates, but

she smiles when the sun holds

her gaze. Eyes of ancient wonder

sing notes of blue upon the garden.

And when the leaves of fall crown her

gold, she holds it like it’s the last

she’ll ever know. Colors die,

cold creeps in, fades her into stone.

The flowers and sun betray her light.

She becomes invisible again.