by Sharon Rothenfluch Cooper
Knee deep in wet leaves
the rake gets heavier,
uncovered grass - flat
and choked for oxygen.
Curtains of rain leave
gay puddles in sunshine
and the remainder of leaves
on the trees flaunt their color,
rinsed and shiny.
Wind mutters in agitation
and stings me
straight in the eye
letting me know
I trespass in its threads of air.
November dons a severe sky
and this season
is only a fraction of forever.
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