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Basking in the memory

I stroll for a mile

eyes heavy

head bent low

yet a faded smile

at the corner of my lips

and an arch on my brow

Leaves changed, green to yellow

yellow to orange and back to green

mono to dialogue to conversations

black to red my hair, though nothing lack

I walk picking stones that before I have seen

am I retracing or going farther away

reach out and hold my capricious heart

and turn away, away from that insipid shack

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