Dead Leaves

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The void is too little with us; punctual and later,

giving and saving, we store up our powers for

all we see in darkness that defies us.

We have taken our hearts back- a joyful gift!

This sky that covers her heart to the sun-

the winds that are still, do not run

and are scattered now like waking seeds.

For this, for all, we are in sync; It moves us so!

Great Goddess, I’d rather be

every one of these dead, unknown to me.

Charolette Stoehr

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