The light falls
long and lazy
like the red-orange-brown
carpet of leaves
it illuminates
on the dirt-floored yard
I have sought
out the sun
a pool of warm
pours into my pores
as I tilt my head
up, up, up
willing every ounce
of energy
to rejuvenate
my thicky, sticky
sleep syrup soul
before the crispy
winter frost
settling on the crispy
brown leaves
and breaks us all
down to the
nitty gritty ground
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