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22 Sep 2008 @ 07:09, by Marissa A Spencer
for the changing season..
Turning
The rusty moon shines like a timeless pendulum
Summer's end smells like sleeping roses
I am suddenly stilled and immobilized
It feels different, I cannot put my finger on it
Something is changing, making me tingle
Standing quietly I sense a turning of nature's pages
The leaves of which are fluttering on the breeze
Nothing exists but me and the buzzing air around me
I see the geese flying with honking urgency
The insects are laying, crawling, looking for rest
It is all around me and I don't exist, never did
The me that was me is not me anymore
I am the blade of grass with dew clinging to it
My heart is the evening cricket chorus
I see my hands and they hold the earth
When I look up, the earth holds me
© September 22, 2008 Marissa A Spencer
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Category: Ideas, Creativity
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